The Rebirth of an Order
by theaberrantwritergirl
Summary: A year has passed since the battle on Crait. The Resistance is reborn from the ashes. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren reigns. Or so it seems. While Rey searches the galaxy for Force Sensitives and Kylo ponders his loyalty to the First Order, the Force works to cross their paths once again. This time, they'll have to face the greatest evil the galaxy has ever seen. *Reylo*
1. In Medias Res: Find You

(1)

 **In Medias Res: Find You**

 _That long, familiar face stared back at her, amber-brown eyes softening with each breathless moment that passed._

 _"Rey?"_

(the title of this In Medias Res was inspired by the song, "Find You," by Ruelle)

* * *

 ** _4 Weeks in the Future: Rey_ _—_ _The Gallo Mountains, Naboo_**

Rey stumbled, her knees and hands colliding against jagged rocks and tree roots.

Cold. Cold that stung her face, her hands, her eyes. Violent, unyielding cold that burned and paralyzed her lungs with each intake of breath.

With a cry, she tried to lift her body from the ground, but her arms shook and failed, sending her head-first into ice and stone.

She couldn't do it. She would die here. Alone. Without Finn. Without Rose, Poe, Ada, Everett, or Hale. Without the people that had been her family for the past year.

But death wasn't what she feared the most. She had been ready to die since Crait.

For a brief moment, Ben's amber-brown eyes enveloped her mind, the color bleeding across her eyelids. His hand on hers, his skin soft and beguiling. The slightest touch that had drawn tears from her eyes, his reassurance playing in her head. _You're not alone. You're not alone. You're not—_

She would never see him again. She would die on this mountain, in this ice. She would never be able to tell him...no...she would never be able to—

A sob escaped her lips. Then another, until tears streamed down her face and clung, frozen, to her cheeks. _It had all been for nothing, hadn't it?_ she thought bitterly. The Jedi Order would die with her. Luke's sacrifice—for nothing. Every hour, every day she had spent training and recruiting. It all...for nothing.

Darkness tugged at the edges of her vision, whispering to give in, to just rest for a while, to slip into a dreamless, peaceful sleep. But she knew. If she closed her eyes, even for the briefest of moments, they would never open again.

 _Rey. Get up._

Had she imagined that voice? She forced her head up and looked through the web of trees before her, her breath no more than a faint cloud of grey in the moonlight.

But there was nothing. No figure. No silhouette.

 _Rey. You have to get up._

Was she delusional? Crazy? It didn't matter. The voice was right. She had to get up. The Resistance counted on her. She swallowed, using every bit of strength she had left to move her legs. Finally, she stood, her eyelids drooping.

"I'm here," she said, the wind drowning out her raspy voice. She shuffled through the snow with her hands locked around her waist, her head down.

 _Keep going. You're almost there._

She was definitely losing her mind. But yet, she persisted. Still, she urged her feet to move.

"Where are you?" she called out, coughing. "Where are—"

She took another step, and suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her. She plunged into darkness, her hands unfurling from her waist to catch her fall.

Upon impact, pain shot through her palms and knees, her existing wounds from her struggle on Chandrila crying from the collision.

She couldn't scream. She couldn't think. She couldn't even force her lungs to take in breath.

She opened her eyes hesitantly, hundreds of colors illuminating the walls of what appeared to be a cave—reds and blues more vivid, more beautiful than any spring sky on any planet she had ever known.

 _What is this place?_ she thought, blinking. She forced herself to stand once again and drank in the dim lights, her mouth hanging open.

Gradually, she started moving forward, the crystals above her head like guiding lights. Deeper she roamed, the cold vanishing from her body with each step. Deeper still, her heart pounding.

But soon the welcoming crystals faded to one, solid color—a crimson red that made her skin prickle. And then, she felt it—a deafening of her senses—as if the life had been sucked from her bones. A quiet, a calm, the energy around her no longer alive.

 _A silencing of the Force._ She knew this feeling. She could never erase it from her mind.

And all at once, she realized.

 _Eseveren._

Frantically, she turned around and around. Which way had she come? Which way? Which—

Tapping sounds like an echoing drum. She stopped. The sounds continued, one, two, and then again.

She moved backwards, her fingers meeting stone, her back and skull pressed against the nearest wall. Carefully, she took in even breaths and closed her eyes, trying to calm the thudding in her chest. Yet, no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, her heartbeat refused to slow.

The tapping sounds increased, growing closer still.

 _Footsteps._

Someone was coming. She had only moments to act.

 _One, two, three!_ She spun, lunged around the corner, and tackled a large figure to the ground. The force of their collision nearly threw the air from her lungs, but she ignored it, her attention pulled toward an unknown sound—a sound like alloy hitting rock.

A weapon? She scrambled away from the assailant and toward the fallen object, her fingers closing around cold metal.

Suddenly, large hands grabbed her, holding her as tight as she held the weapon, back-first, against him.

This weapon. She knew this weapon, the feel of it, the shape.

Crying out, she stomped on the man's foot, dove her elbow into his stomach, and turned around, igniting the blade and painting the tunnel in hazy red light.

That long, familiar face stared back at her, amber-brown eyes softening with each breathless moment that passed.

"Rey?"

Her hands trembled, the lightsaber hovering inches from his throat.

 _Ben._

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. I love feedback, questions, and general chatter. The next chapter will move back in time, but you will be seeing this portion of prose again soon in a future chapter. ;)

Eternal thanks to my main beta editor, SilverStarwolfe. Please show her some love. She's amazing. Without her, this would not be written. I also want to thank my second beta editor, Way-of-the-pathfinder. She provided such valuable, wonderful suggestions. These lovely humans both write SW fan fiction. Please check them out!

— Bee


	2. Chapter 1: Burn

(2)

 **Chapter 1: Burn**

 _She placed the kilade in Leia's half-open palm._

 _"Hope," Rey whispered._

(the title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Let Us Burn," by Within Temptation)

* * *

 _ **Rey — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

Amber eyes. That's what Rey remembered the most. Dark, amber eyes burning across from her, pleading, determined. "Please," he had whispered, so softly, so carefully, as if his certainty were fading. She had wanted to say yes, if only so that she would never see that look again. What would have happened if she had? Would she be standing in front of his coffin instead?

She shook her head. It had been one year since that day, and yet, there were times when she felt his eyes were her true reality and not the endless, grueling days of trying to rebuild an entire Resistance all over again.

Now, it seemed, she would have to work even harder. She focused on the body of the woman she had come to know as a teacher, a guider, and even as a mother—a mother to replace the one whom had thrown her away and never came back. And now she too would disappear into nothing.

Rey held her breath, anticipating the opening of her eyes which would confirm that it was all just a dark hallucination—the eyes that were identical to his. Her grey hair, adorned with numerous, small, sapphire blue flowers—kilades—her favorite on this planet.

Rey's eyes filled with tears. It was such a contrast—the piercing blue against a backdrop of grey. After Ben had refused to come home to her once again, she had stopped hiding the age in her hair. But still, she was exquisite, ethereal. Still, she made Rey's heart ache.

"For me, one of the saddest things about moving to and from planets is leaving behind your favorite flower," Leia had explained a few weeks after they arrived on Elerin, handing a single kilade to Rey. "Sure, you can dry your favorites or even bring a few seeds, but dried flowers lose their life and scent, and sometimes, the seeds won't grow in the new soil, and so you must find something new to love."

Rey took the flower from her hands and brought it to her nose, surprised at the sweetness. "I had dried desert flowers on Jakku, but nothing like this," she said. "It had cost me an entire day's work. I couldn't eat that night because I traded in all of my scrap for them."

"And just like me, you had to leave them behind. I know you still have hope that he will return. I had for years. Luke believed no one was ever really gone. He saved our father. But not even Han could save his own son."

"Where do you think he is right now?" Rey asked staring out at the deep green grasslands of Elerin.

By now, Rey had told Leia everything that had happened between her and Ben—the Force Bond, how she had seen his future when they touched, how she had crossed the _entire galaxy_ for him, how together they had brought an end to Snoke, how she had tried so hard to convince him to turn to the Light, and how, ultimately, he had rejected her.

"News from the First Order has been quiet. He could be anywhere."

"You wonder why I have hope still?"

Leia gazed at her longingly, her mouth a straight line. "In a few short days, you did what I failed to do for years. You're the only person who knows him now."

"The way he looked at me when I cut the Force Bond," Rey said, still staring at the landscape. She shook her head to prevent tears from pooling in her eyes.

Leia touched Rey's hand, their eyes meeting.

"You did the right thing, Rey. If anyone could have gotten through to him, it was you."

Rey shook her head again. "I know, but his eyes...Like _I_ was the one who had betrayed _him._ I know he will leave the First Order. I know he will come back. That's why I wait. He will learn that the Force is not something he can bend and shape to his will. It's bigger than all of us."

She placed the kilade in Leia's half-open palm.

"Hope," Rey whispered.

From then on, Rey had always kept a kilade by her bedside. That was, of course, until she had found Leia a few days ago.

She touched Leia's hands, almost expecting them to be warm. She knew she should feel lucky that the First Order had even left a body to be recovered, but inside, she knew their true motivations— _his_ true motivations—were to send a message to the growing Resistance. He wanted them to display her body. A testament, a reminder. If the First Order could kill the head leader of the Resistance, the most guarded of them all, they could kill everyone.

Vividly, Rey recalled the exact moment she had felt Leia's presence fade from the Force, like a hole piercing through her chest. Rey had left Elerin, without hesitation, without another thought, without even telling Finn, Rose, or Everett.

She had cried and screamed, clutching onto Leia's broken body, as if that could bring the life back into her limbs. She hadn't faded painlessly into the Force like Luke had. No, she had been assassinated brutally on what Rey suspected were the orders of her own son. The son whose eyes wouldn't leave her head. The son who had made her question her choice over and over and over again until sleep finally took her. It reminded her of those days on Jakku when she would spend all night praying for the loneliness to end. And even now, surrounded by the growing Resistance, she found herself once again wishing for it to end. And the only two people who had quelled it would never return. One had chosen power, and one had died because of it.

If only she had tried harder to stop Leia when she had mentioned an old ally from Gethen had contacted her. Leia had been unconvinced, callous even, when Rey and Poe protested.

"So you're going light years away to Gethen with the First Order breathing down our necks all because an old friend wants to see you and says he may have some information that would interest the Resistance?" Poe had said. "You're our last leader, Leia. We need you. Let one of us go in your place or let one of us go with you at least."

Leia's eyes darkened slightly. "I've lost my brother, my husband, and my son. Friends are all I have left. I'm going, only a small crew. If something happens to me, the Resistance would only be losing one of us. And besides, I'm not the last leader. There's General Ematt, Commander D'Acy, Lieutenant Connix, Chief Carinus…and you, _Commander_ Dameron."

"You're giving me back my rank?"

"Don't mess it up," Leia said with a smile.

Carefully, she lifted Leia's hands and placed a dried kilade underneath them, remembering that smile. It was the last flower Rey had kept beside her bed before deciding to end the ritual for good. She had so much she wanted to say, but her lips couldn't and wouldn't move no matter how much she urged them. What really could she say to a woman who had lost her entire family at the hands of her own son? She had known more loss than Rey could ever imagine.

And in the end, she had been betrayed again. _Did she she know was going to die?_ She had never left Elerin without a large Resistance fleet— _if_ she left at all. Everyone knew was too dangerous.

Suddenly, a warm hand touched Rey's.

"It's time," Finn said.

Rey looked up, shrugging off his touch. He was right. Her eyes met each face that made up the Resistance, tears threatening to sweep her away. But she wouldn't let them spill. Not now. Not when everyone was waiting for her.

She grabbed a torch from Poe, and together, they lit the funeral pyre.

Leia's final wish. No corpse to grieve, no dwelling on things long dead. It would be as if she had never existed. Soon, the galaxy would forget. Soon, the only traces of Leia would remain in datapads forgotten on a scholar's shelf.

But Rey would never forget.

The fire twisted toward the sky, rough tendrils hungrily lapping against the dark. Entranced, she stared at the flames, her vision blurring in a kaleidoscope of orange and white.

They would rise. Yes, they would. But then they would fall. They always did. And all that would be left was ash.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Thank you so much for reading! Comments are lovely and make my day.

Also, I have received some feedback on how Rey appears to be out of character here. And while I do agree, anger and frustration can cloud someone's judgment heavily. As a Reylo and my favorite character being Ben, I actually didn't want to write this. I had a mini war with Rey in my head (seriously!), but dealing with shock, grief, and anger really brings out the worst in Rey. She is an emotional character who often trusts those emotions at first and then later doubts them. Moreover, I tried to imagine a situation that would peel off the layers that make her up—perhaps after spending a year with Leia as her mother figure and then finding her brutally murdered. This character growth actually is needed for the plot with Rey and Ben later in this story. All I can say is that she will not be making the same mistake again. ❤️ I promise it does get better by the end of chapter 5, and if you continue reading, you will find that the Rey you know and love is back, but much wiser.

Once again, thank you to my beta editor, SilverStarwolfe. _So, so, so much._

— Bee


	3. Chapter 2: Lost at Sea

(3)

 **Chapter 2: Lost At Sea**

 _"It still wasn't too late. He could catch them now. Make them all pay. Pay. Pay. Pay. He felt the darkness run through him. His nostrils flared; his mouth twitched. He would cut their throats, slowly, carefully, to the bone. He would savor it as they screamed."_

(The title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Lost At Sea," by In This Moment)

* * *

 _ **Kylo — Gethen**_

He was running, running faster than he could remember since he was a child. His mind whirled with images of her face—how her eyebrows had woven together and pulled apart when he had accidentally broken her favorite vase of lalorins—how her lips had upturned slightly when she had told him that she loved him for the last time, right before she had sent him away.

And the only, fully coherent thought that remained: _What have I done?_

He hadn't been able to stop the first attack on Leia's life. What made him think that he could stop it now? They had left hours before he had. He imagined them searching her Force energy through every alley and building, following a trail that only those trained could see. They were similar to the guards he had cut down a year ago—the ones that had nearly killed him before _Rey_ had saved him. The blood running down her arm. Her wide, compassionless eyes when she had closed the door on him. How much he had wanted to beg her to stop, to turn around. If only he could have…

He grimaced, his chest throbbing. He couldn't think about her. Not now. Not ever. Not after…

Panting, he ripped off Ren's identifying markings—the golden chains that twisted around his arms, the shattered, red kyber crystal rings. _What have I done? What have I done…_ He pulled the hood of his traveling cloak over his head.

He had always hated Gethen. Why had she come to Gethen? It was a horrible mix of dryness and heat with only touches of green in small corners. The people were lower class merchants, but perhaps more well off than most. They had dirty, dust-caked faces, yet a few jewels could always be seen dripping from their necks. They looked like scavengers from afar…it almost reminded him of Jakku. It almost reminded him of…

 _No._

He stole the first, parked sandspeeder that he saw and headed into the expanse of the sparse, lime-hued land that stretched farther than he could see. He was thankful that it was more forgiving than most desert planets, but the sun still broke through his dark clothes, causing sweat to run in his eyes and hair and his shirt to cling. There were dwellings littered across the area, but the land that stretched between them was spacious, and some were missing parts of their roofs.

And then, he felt it—a jagged pain in his abdomen. He reached for her presence in the Force, but it was fading faster than he could push the speeder.

 _My son._ Had he imagined her voice? Would he awake from this unfamiliar nightmare in the bed rooted in the familiar one?

 _My son, you came,_ the voice said, higher this time. He could feel her surprise, her grief. _I'm sorry._

 _I'm almost there,_ he thought, hoping it would reach her, pleading with the galaxy for this one chance to make it right. _Just one more chance. One more._

He spotted the outpost a ways ahead. He imagined they had driven her there. What a fitting place for such cowards, for such traitors. What a fitting…

 _Ben. It's too late._ He stopped the speeder, his eyes filling with tears. He gritted his teeth. It had been so long since she had called him that. So long since he had heard it fall from her lips. Perhaps eight years ago? Ten? How long had he spent in the darkness without her voice? How long had it been drowned out, dampened by another?

 _I know I was never the best mother. I know. I'm sorry I lost hope. I'm sorry I couldn't save you._ He could almost feel her fingertips brushing his face, a cough escaping her lips. He could almost see her smile—that smile that remained even as the Force called her back into itself. How could she smile at him? How could she when he was the one that had…that had…

He gripped his head, the pain snaking down his neck. _No. Just hold on. Hold on. I'm almost there._

And then she was gone.

* * *

He waited until they left.

Ever since she…ever since she had shut the door to the Falcon on Crait, ever since she had ended the only true connection he had ever fully felt to another human being, every thought and every fear that he had thought once belonged to him, vanished. An aching in his chest replaced them and grew—far larger than he thought probable. He had spent his days staring blankly ahead in council meetings, his nights with eyes open till dawn, and his mornings with food left untouched.

Ren would have ran his lightsaber across their necks before they could think another vile thought. Ren would have let their life's blood stain and putrefy the sand. Ren would have spat on their corpses. Ren would have…

Kylo Ren was never real. He would always be Snoke and Luke's creation. And Ben Solo was dead. He had died all those years ago with the fire that consumed it all. So who was he now? Supreme Leader? No, that title had always belonged to Snoke. He had never been Supreme Leader, not really. Hux, the arrogant fool, had never respected him. The First Order—with their contradictory Storm Troopers in white and their workers in black, had laughed outside of his presence. Master? That title would forever belong to Snoke, Luke, and dead orders—to the Jedi and the Sith. Jedi? He winced. No, that was Ben Solo, and it had burned with him. Sith? Not even Ren had been a Sith.

So _who_ was he?

Slowly, he opened the outpost door, a sickly sheen of crimson reflecting the sunlight. Blood would have fueled Ren, invigorated him, and blood would have horrified Ben Solo. So who did the ache in his chest belong to?

Perhaps the better question was: _What_ was he?

He pushed back the door fully, exposing the wounds across her chest, her head, her legs. A blaster. A peasant's death. They had slaughtered her like Ren had done to so many before. Executed her with no remorse. He would kill them. It still wasn't too late. He could catch them now. Make them all pay. Pay. Pay. _Pay_. He felt the darkness run through him. His nostrils flared; his mouth twitched. He would cut their throats, slowly, carefully, to the bone. He would savor it as they screamed. He would—

The anger faded. The light cut through the darkness.

Death hadn't killed the slight smile on her face. And in the Force, he felt…he felt…

A stillness he had never felt before. Only a woman like her could have died like this—smiling, peaceful, even as a blaster was fired into her skull. Despite how many times he had tried to destroy the Resistance, despite that he had killed Han Solo, despite that he had caused Luke's death, despite that he had put an end to everything she loved, she still had reached for him in her last moments. She still had forgiven him, despite all of the reasons he had given her not to.

He fell on his knees before her and let the blood soak into his pants. Carefully, he lifted her body into his arms, cradling her head in his palms.

Only a woman...only _his mother_ would have used her last moments to reach out to a man—a thing—like him.

He studied her brown eyes, the lines around her mouth and lids. Her hair was completely grey now, and those lines had not been there ten years ago. Or was it fifteen years ago? The darkness of his past spanned out before him, and he realized he had forgotten what she actually looked like before…before…

Before he had become the monster they had all foreseen.

He lifted her up and cradled her head in his palms.

Then, he sobbed into her, each breath of air convulsing his lungs and digging the pain further down into his flesh.

Why had she come to Gethen? The First Order had spies in every corner of the planet. She knew that. She had been a general for years. She knew politics. She had her own spies. So…why?

And then he realized, another wave pulling him under again.

He wasn't sure how long he spent there on the ground, drenched in her blood, holding her closer than he had ever remembered before, but time passed. It always did despite his inability to let it go.

When his cries began to cease, he looked up.

Day had become twilight.

Time had passed on, and it was time he did too.

* * *

 _ **Rey — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

Rey rocked slowly in a hammock, finding comfort in the sounds of her friends' voices near the main outside area. They were neither far away nor too close; just enough for Rey to enjoy their presence and her own solitude.

And only the Force knew how much she actually missed being alone now.

In the light of the late evening, Elerin always seemed to glow—from the deep greens of the long grass bowing with each gust of wind to the high-pitched chirp of kawoods, everything was bathed in such iridescent light. The twin moons, although different, made Rey think of nights on Jakku looking up at the sky, waiting for her parents, the very people who had sold her off for nothing more than a quick drink, to return and save her.

Hadn't she wasted enough of her life waiting without purpose?

Waiting for her parents, waiting for Luke, and then waiting and placing all of her hope in a monster—in a monster that would never turn from the darkness, no matter how much she pleaded with the Force to unfold, to just show her how, to point her in the direction of its will. How could its will be this? _How_?

It was a fitting punishment, really, she thought, for a stupid girl who had believed she could turn the dark knight of the First Order—that Ben Solo could come back after years of darkness and that all would be right in the universe. But no, he had used her to kill Snoke, and no matter how much she had hoped otherwise before Leia's death, it just wasn't the truth.

"I thought I'd find you here," came a voice behind her.

Rey sat up, flailing, and nearly overturned the hammock. The porg that had been enjoying a nice nap in the crook of her arm squawked in surprise and flew away.

"Rose," she breathed, settling back down.

"Are you okay?" Rose asked, sitting down on the other end of the hammock. "The others were wondering where you had gone."

Rey closed her eyes. "I just needed to be alone."

Silence. Rose turned her gaze to the stars, her cheeks widening with her signature grin. "I thought I needed that too when my sister died, but then Finn came along," she said looking back and forth between Rey and the sky.

"You and Finn make a great team," Rey replied, her eyes narrowing. Ever since Rey had watched Finn tuck that blanket around Rose as they left Crait, her stomach had throbbed with a pain she couldn't figure out the origins of. Some days, she found herself imagining Finn doing that to her, holding _her_ hand, taking care of _her._ But in her dreams, Finn's handsome, boyish face had turned into someone else's entirely—someone who had been the only person to fully take the painful nights on Jakku away—someone who could make her weep with only the brush of his fingertips, with only the assurance that she wasn't alone, that she would never be alone, that they could be together.

And she had rejected him. And he had rejected her.

"I'm sorry about what Kaydel said earlier…about _him_."

Rey shook her head, sitting up. "No, she's right, Rose. I didn't leave because of what she said. Everyone has been right about him this whole time. I've been the blind one. I've been foolish and selfish. I should have killed him when I had the chance. After all he did, having hope that a monster like him could come back?" She laughed, tears already soaking her cheeks. "I was wrong. I was so wrong."

"So you really think he ordered it too?"

"Who else? He's the Supreme Leader of the whole bloody First Order. And the First Order is taking full credit for her death. He almost killed Finn. And I saw him kill Han. His own father."

Rose looked at her feet. "I thought, out of everyone, that you would still be the one to have hope."

"Hope in a snake that murdered both of his parents? Hope? You yourself never believed he could come back from the darkness. Not after Crait. Everyone believed it but me. And why? Because of a silly bond that Snoke forged between us? Because he…" Rey released the sob coiled in her chest.

Rose tried to wrap her arms around Rey, but she shook her off. Rey would only allow Leia to do that now.

And Leia was dead.

She focused on her breathing, trying to ebb the tears.

"So that's it then? You're just going to give up? It doesn't matter what I believe. It doesn't matter what any of us believe about him. How do you know? How do you know he was the one behind the order besides the fact that he's the Supreme Leader? How do you know it wasn't Hux or Regan that gave the order?"

"Because it fits with everything he has done, and you know it. I thought I knew him better than anyone else had here. Leia thought so too. But we were both wrong."

"And what does the Force tell you?"

"It doesn't matter what the Force tells me. It's wrong. It's all wrong."

"And what does the Force tell you?"

"To wait." Rey laughed. "Wait! I've been waiting my whole life. That's all I've done since being on Elerin. Waiting for the Resistance's numbers to grow, waiting on spies to identify Force-sensitive beings or to give us news of the First Order, waiting for someone to tell me how to read the Jedi texts so I can actually train Ada and Hale and fix Luke's lightsaber. Everett tries, but he's no Jedi. That's all Leia wanted me to do: wait, wait, wait. We were too weak, she always said, even as our numbers grew. We were too weak, yet she still flew practically alone to Gethen and none of us tried hard enough to stop her!"

"Luke wanted the Jedi to end. Maybe you're just not waiting for the right things." Rose paused, sighing. "And you know we couldn't have stopped Leia from going. I bet…I bet she had a reason that none of can see right now…I bet—"

"It doesn't matter what you bet or think, Rose. Leia's dead. I found her body. I brought her back. Whatever her reason was, it was foolish. Foolish, like I have been."

Rose stood up, and only then did Rey notice the tears in her eyes. "You know, I wanted to have the hope that you had. You made me believe that there was hope for an outcome other than more death. That's all we ever talk about. How many people we can kill to make the First Order hurt. It never ends." She paused, brushing her cheeks with the back of her hand.

When she had stopped the tears, she said, "I'm sorry for bothering you," and walked away.

The Rey a week ago would have stopped her, told her that she was sorry, that she was just hurt and tired and angry, but that Rey had also believed in a childish dream that everyone but her could see was not the reality.

And so, Rey lay back down and let her leave.

Yet, her mind repeated Rose's words over and over in her head: _How do you know? How do you know? How do you know?_

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

As always, special thanks to my beta editor, SilverStarwolfe.

— Bee


	4. Chapter 3: Blood

(4)

 **Chapter 3: Blood**

 _Her hands shook. She lifted them to her face._

 _Blood._

 _She screamed._

(The title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Oceans," by Evanescence)

* * *

 _ **Rey — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

" _Traitor!"_

" _Murderer!"_

" _Snake!"_

 _Kaydel. Poe. Hale. Ada. Everett. Rose. Finn. Their features blurred and spun, their voices pounding against her head._

 _Then she realized._

 _They weren't looking at her._

 _Leia's hazel eyes. Hair a night sky devoid of stars. The scar that twisted and turned down his cheek._

 _The lightsaber glowing green in her hand._

 _The tears dripping across his face. His head hanging. His hands tied behind his back._

 _The lightsaber raised and found its aim._

 _Her hands shook. She lifted them to her face._

 _Blood._

 _She screamed._

Rey jolted upright. _What have I done?_ _What have I done? What have I done? What have I…_

There was no blood on her hands. She looked around, her eyes falling on the metal dresser, the books stacked in a tower against the wall, the tan sheets covering her legs.

She breathed out, tucking her hair behind her ears. _A nightmare. Only a nightmare._

But when she had touched Luke's lightsaber all that time ago, hadn't she thought the images of Kylo Ren were just a dream? And when she had asked the mirror to show her who her parents were, hadn't it shown her the nothingness of her past, only to be confirmed by Rey herself as she stood, sobbing, in front of Ben? Her breathing quickened, the tears endlessly dripping from her chin. Could she do it—could she...kill him? Could she stand in front of him again, in front of his broken eyes, and drive a lightsaber into his heart? Could she do it even if it meant saving the Resistance? Even if it meant saving everyone she loved? At _what_ cost?

Then, someone was shaking her, pleading with her, to open her eyes—to just look up at him.

"Rey! Rey! Wh-wh-what happened?" Finn said, kneeling down beside her bed.

She hadn't even noticed the door opening. How had she become so inattentive? The First Order could rip through their base, kill everyone, and she probably wouldn't notice until their blood seeped from under her bedroom door.

"Nothing, just a dream," she said, yet again shaking off his touch. She lay back down. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry for waking you. Thank you for checking on me."

"I'm just glad you're okay. You nearly woke the entire base. Do you want someone to stay with you?"

Rey laughed. "Yes, Rose would love that."

"I'm worried about you."

She didn't respond.

"Rey—"

"I'm fine, Finn. Go back to sleep."

"You don't look fine. You're crying," he said, bringing a hand to her cheek. She pulled away, turning her back to him.

"I know you're hurting. Let me help."

"I said I'm fine. Go. Back. To. Sleep."

He paused. "If...if...that's what you want, I understand." She didn't answer. And a few moments later, the door opened and shut once again.

Rey sighed, unable to stop the image of Leia's coffin flashing through her mind. She tossed, trying to urge it to vanish. But it wouldn't.

And it never would again.

No matter what she did, no matter what planet she were on, no matter if she were laughing or smiling or celebrating, it would no longer just be a painful memory that she could tuck away in the back of her mind.

Because this time, the coffin didn't belong to Leia at all.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

As usual, all comments are welcome, even those that are not favorable. Any feedback at all keeps me motivated. I am sorry for the briefness of this chapter. The next should make up for that.

Thank you to SilverStarwolfe. You are wonderful!

Also, this story will become more "Reyloish" as it continues, but it will be tasteful and believable.

— Bee


	5. Chapter 4: Only One

(5)

 **Chapter 4: Only One**

 _"The pull of the endless night and the lingering ghosts were one of the same, but she had been too self-righteous, too vindicated that she just couldn't see it before. If she couldn't rid herself of her own darkness, how could she ever expect Ben to? How could she ever expect him to come back to the Light, to the Resistance, and…to her?"_

(The title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "I Am Only One," by We Are The Fallen)

* * *

She pointed her gaze toward the stars.

 _Dying suns pulsing and bleeding their last. Soldiers in white firing their guns as tears fall from the eyes of a young girl, her mother motionless in her arms. A woman, ash faced and sweating, hammering away at stone. A man standing in a dark hanger. Pilots soaring against the backdrop of the dark. Bursts of light, metal melting away to nothing._

Then, another energy drew her attention, so powerful and raw. But no, it was two energies—two separate energies trying desperately to join and meld, but finding no resolve. Perhaps they were a man and a woman— _a man and a woman extending their hands, crying for all they have lost, unable to reach the other._ She had felt them many times before.

She closed her eyes, wanting to reach out and whisper words of healing—the ones her mother would tell her when she was a child—but knew that she couldn't. She was to be a quiet observer, a silent keeper of the energies that ricocheted around her.

They didn't belong to her. They didn't belong to anyone. No one could own such power, such light, such darkness. And if it were the Force's will for them to suffer, then who was she to change it?

She hadn't been able to change _his_ mind in her youth all those years ago. He had stood in front of her and sworn he would never marry—that he would follow the Jedi creed—immune to the tears staining her face. And it was on that day that she had avowed the same thing herself. If he didn't wish to spend his life with her, then she didn't wish to spend her life with anyone else. He had chosen. She had chosen. And they had suffered.

 _Shadows closing in. Unable to breathe. A woman? A man?_

She couldn't decipher it, yet she knew this pull, this draw to either side.

It ruled the galaxy. It opposed balance.

It resisted everything she believed in—everything she had worked and cried and bled for.

Their screams resonated in her ears. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, trying hard to block them out, but it was impossible. They followed her during every meditation, every meal, and every lesson. They would never stop. They would never cease. Not until there was peace, and peace, she knew, could never be achieved.

The only thing she could hope for was balance—balance in the Force. Balance, at least, could soften the screams to whispers and comfort the faces of so many children like she had tried to do for years—for decades—since he left her.

Sweat soaked her grey hair, her own energy dwindling. It was time. _Time to let go._

And slowly, gradually, she withdrew her reach from the Force and collapsed into the dark.

* * *

 _ **Hux — Kalenat**_

Hux waited in the hanger, the smell of engines and fuel making his jaw clench harder with each moment that passed. _Where was he?_

 _Scum. Making him wait. Did he not know who he was? Did he not know the kind of power he commanded, the amount of people that crawled beneath him?_

And now, he had all the power to himself. His armies were his again to send into whatever battle he wished. His spies were his. The whole planet of Kalenat was his now. And all it had taken was a few spies and one, well thought out plot to kill General Leia. He would soon have unlimited power and now—

"Commander."

"What?" Hux snapped, turning around to meet Regan's eyes.

"He is approaching. You may want to move."

Hux squeaked and ran back, just a moment before the front of the ship made contact with the ground where he had been standing.

The ship was larger than regular transport ships and far thinner. He would tell the engineers to acquire the blueprints for it. It would be perfect. How grand of an entrance he would make—much more than Supreme Leader Kylo Ren ever made. He would—

Laughter. The fool was laughing at him.

"And what is so funny?" Hux asked.

"Nothing, General," Regan said, sucking in his lips and putting his hands behind his back. "I've just never heard such a sound."

Hux rolled his eyes. "Compose yourself, Colonel Regan. We must maintain unity. Especially now."

Sometimes Hux wondered why he kept Regan at his side. Colonel Kaplan or even Colonel Datoo would never act like such blundering idiots. But their loyalties were questionable. Hux could never reveal his plans to them, no. They followed the Supreme Leader. Hux mentally scoffed. He would be a better, stronger Supreme Leader when the time came. He would crush all those who resorted to treasonous behavior, not show them mercy like Ren often chose to do. The galaxy needed order and strong leadership, not compassion. Hux would be lucky if anyone even respected the First Order by the time he took power.

The door to the ship opened with a hiss, revealing two human-like soldiers in light blue uniforms. But the man—or creature—behind them made Hux's pulse quicken. His facial features were nearly identical to Snoke's, but free of the many pockets and crevices that had once plagued the face of the former Supreme Leader—his dark hair long and fashioned ornately with dusky red flowers.

"General Hux," came its feminine voice. She clasped her hands together under the long sleeves of her sapphire gown and bowed.

"Em—Emp—Emperor Sarlin?"

"Surely you were expecting me?"

"Yes, of course, your Highness. Finally, we meet. Forgive me. I presumed you were a man." He had communicated with her order on Revalt using holograms, but never with her directly. She had always been too busy to speak to him—or uninterested. The latter thought caused his knuckles to clench slightly. It had taken him a long time to set up this meeting. She had contacted the First Order days after Snoke's death, and only now had decided to grant them a meeting.

"Cannot women be Emperors too?"

"We use a different word for females, your Highness. The proper term in our region and tongue would be Empress Sarlin."

"I am aware of history and your language, General," she said, removing her hands from under her sleeves.

"This way," Hux said, leading her to the Council Hall, a smile appearing on his face upon entering. The Council Hall was a new addition to their base on Kalenat, and Hux had constructed it to meet his standards. After the near devastation of the Supremacy, Ren's first order as Supreme Leader had been to establish a main base on Kalenat. It was the only order Hux had even half-agreed with. Hux had urged Ren to gain control of Chandrila, but Ren, once again had let his personal interests interfere with First Order business. Hux remembered their argument all too well and almost sneered. Chandrila would have been the sensible choice, not a practically unknown planet like Kalenat. From Chandrila, they could have maintained a tight grip and dealt a heavy blow to the Resistance. But Ren had not seen reason. He never did. And Hux would ensure his downfall because of it.

"What is that smell, General?"

"New construction, your Highness. Forgive me."

"I see. We have much more sensory pleasing building materials on Revalt."

Hux bit down on his tongue. After all the work he had done, all for her to only comment on the smell of new paint. He had had the sculpture of Snoke commissioned himself—nearly twenty thousand credits paid to a sculptor to chip away stone. He had chosen the high, oval windows and the dark, velvet curtains. And her only concern was the _smell?_

"Will the Supreme Leader be joining us this afternoon?"

Hux smiled. "Unfortunately, not. He is away at the moment."

"Oh? Is that so? I was looking forward to speaking with him. As you know, we only received the official report concerning Snoke's death. He was present, was he not? I would have greatly enjoyed listening to his account of the events on the Supremacy, and his ideas on strategies to hold the scavenger responsible for such treachery. Is my information correct? You still have not found the girl a year later despite a bounty of one hundred thousand credits?"

"Yes, your Highness," Hux said, tugging on his collar. "But rest assured, the perpetrator will be found and brought to justice."

"We thought we should focus our efforts harder elsewhere to restore the First Order back to its former glory," Regan interrupted.

 _The fool._ Hux glared at him. He had almost, _almost_ forgotten his infuriating presence.

"That is not the entire truth, your Highness," Hux replied quickly. "We simply thought we should employ our spies and troops in other ways. If we find their base, we find the girl, and rid ourselves of their filth forever."

His chest stung. _Forced to defend Ren's orders!_ He would ensure that it never happened again. Regan would not get another chance to make the First Order look weak.

"Then, General, why do you seek to strike a deal with me when you have not prioritized any of my wishes? I came here with the intention of discovering what happened to my father, as was promised. And yet, you have failed at even that."

Hux locked eyes with Lieutenant Mitaka standing at the door. "Perhaps this will restore your faith in the First Order?" He snapped his fingers, and Mitaka quickly set down an object wrapped in red silk.

"A present, General? You should know that I do not respond well to bribery used to mask incompetence," she said. Yet, she still began to untie the lace string, her long, spider-like fingers gliding over the fabric with an aura of grace he had only witnessed in himself. Ren, even with his high birth, could never match this refinement, this elegance. If Hux had to eliminate her, he might actually feel a touch of regret to waste such a sophisticated leader—however annoying she was.

Then, the material cascaded down to reveal a smoldering red stone sheathed in thick glass. Hux couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. All of his efforts, all of the long days searching and organizing. He had waited so long.

"The locals call it Eseveren, your Highness. The rarest, most concentrated element in the—"

"Their peasant name for it does not matter. You think I do not know what this is?" She cradled and turned the orb, her smile matching his. "Three grams of this can power a ship for weeks or be used in weapons to destroy entire systems without the need to build such expensive, unnecessary machinery. Our reserves were depleted nearly two hundred years ago. _Where_ did you find this?"

"Forgive me, but that is a First Order secret. However, with your pledge to help the First Order, I will ensure its constant supply without disturbance. You need not to trifle yourself with the lowly occupation of mining minerals."

Suddenly, she set the orb down without even moving her hands. "You will need to do more than entice me with minerals, then, General."

"You want revenge, I know, your Highness. With your pledge and credits, we can train more spies to find Snoke's murderer. I will personally ensure that the perpetrator is hand delivered to you on Revalt. You have my word."

"Very well, then." She paused, standing up. "What a splendid chat, General. You are certainly better company than I thought you would be. But perhaps you might offer your guests a refreshment upon sitting down, especially those that have traveled such a long way to see you."

"Of course, Emperor Sarlin," Hux said, standing up himself.

She moved toward the door with her guards trailing behind her. "And perhaps you will use more nasally pleasing materials next time?"

"Yes, of course. Please, let me see you out to make up for my rudeness."

"That is not necessary. Only—please ensure that the first shipment will be delivered to me with haste."

And just when Hux was beginning to relax at the sight of her retreating back, she turned around, her eyes locking with his. "And one more thing, General: you really should consider finding a better designer for your formal meeting rooms." She flicked her hand, and the curtains completely opened, enveloping the room in warm light. "Such drabness sets a negative tone for the entire image of the First Order, yes? Color does not belong only to the Light."

"Yes, your Highness. I will inform him. Thank you for your visit," Hux said through gritted teeth.

When she left, he stared at the curtains, dreaming of tearing down every strip of fabric and smashing the sculpture to fragments. She hadn't even mentioned the statue. All of his work—for nothing.

He wasn't sure how he could possibly endure another meeting with _that_ woman, but he knew he must. He must if he wanted to take power—the power that would have rightfully belonged to him a year ago if he had been able to cut Ren's throat as he lay on the Throne Room floor.

He had tried for months to frame Ren. He never believed that one, insignificant scavenger had killed Snoke and the guards singlehandedly. No, not at all. And most of the officers didn't either.

But he could never prove it.

Because the surveillance footage had been erased.

Hux remembered Mitaka's wince when he had interrupted Hux's dinner to report the news. Hux had screamed at him, smashed a droid, and refused to meet Ren's gaze for a month. Afterwards, he had felt disgust—disgust in Ren, disgust in the officers, disgust in everything that had gone wrong. But most of all, he had felt disgust in himself. How could he prove that he was a better, stronger, and more stable leader than Ren if he could not control his own emotions?

Yet, in the end, it would be of no concern to dispose of Ren.

No…no great matter at all.

Not if he found the girl.

* * *

 _ **Rose — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

Rose awoke to a whizzing sound. Rubbing her eyes, she pulled back the covers from her body and cautiously placed her ear to the door.

Her first thought was a vacuum cleaner. _Wait. A vacuum cleaner?_ Rose hadn't seen or heard one in years. Not since…not since her mother was alive.

At the Resistance base, they had automated robot cleaners which made no sound as they rolled and sucked across the floor. Back on Hays Minor, on the other hand, Rose's family had considered themselves lucky to have found an old, manual vacuum cleaner in a scrap sale. The rickety machine had saved her mother numerous amounts of time sweeping their bunkhouse.

Rose smiled. Oh how that vacuum had annoyed her sister. Their mother could only run it for a few minutes before Paige was reaching for its power supply.

Puzzled, Rose opened the door a crack. Whatever it was had a metal head being rammed across the floor and a bag attached to the back. Though it was different than her mother's, it was definitely a vacuum cleaner.

 _Who could be using a vacuum cleaner? And why?_

She pushed the door back a little more. The person wielding the machine was wearing a brown gas mask that nearly covered her entire face. But Rose knew that hair color and that worn tunic.

"Rey!" Rose yelled over the sound.

Rey continued to vacuum, each stroke more erratic and powerful than the last.

"REY!"

She still didn't stop.

Rose swiped the pillow off of her bed, and in one, rapid motion, threw it at Rey's head.

Rey jumped and turned around, taking off her gas mask and ear plugs. "Good. You're up. Now move."

"What are you—" Rose barely began to say before Rey pushed herself, and her clunky contraption, into her room.

"What does it look like?" Rey asked, fiddling with the cord to the vacuum. She stared at the wreckage that was Rose's room—books on machines strewed about and opened to various pages, old Radioactiva Granola bar wrappers accumulated throughout the last six months, crumpled papers forgotten on the floor ages ago.

Then, a squeak came from the back corner of the room, and Rose's eyes went wide. Shut up…shut up…shut up.

It was too late. Rey's gaze followed the sound. When she turned back around to face Rose, her mouth hung open.

"You're keeping a Porg in your room? Really?"

Rose slouched. "He gets cold at night."

Just then, another cheep sounded from under the bed.

Rey bent down to investigate, and then popped back up, sighing. "And how many did you let inside?"

"Well, there's Darth Squeaker, Supreme Cheeper…

"You're joking, right? _Darth Squeaker?_ Supreme _Cheeper?_ Why…why _did_ you name them after a few of the most hated men in the galaxy?"

"They aren't all named like that! Luke Squawkwalker is around here somewhere…Look, I don't judge you on how you deal with things. Not all of us choose to angrily sulk for two weeks and snap at anyone so awful enough to ask how you are," Rose said, crossing her arms.

"Well at least I don't keep wild animals _not even native to this planet_ in my room…or name them like that. They belong outside, Rose. If Leia finds out—"

Rey stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Just make sure that they stay outside or on the Falcon. You know Chewie worries if he can't find them."

"And why are you vacuuming?" Rose said, already knowing the answer.

After they had arrived on Elerin, Rey had insisted on scrubbing every floor, wall, and crevice of the base by hand even though they had droids for that too. Rose would never forget Leia's face as they stared at Rey's hunched body running a rag across the Mess Hall.

Leia had raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and said, "Men. Always complaining about having to scrub one refresher when the cleaning droid breaks down…and before you know it, you're the one on your knees scrubbing the thing just to get him to shut up…And then there's my son. All he has to do is piss a girl off, for a completely unrelated reason, and she insists on cleaning a whole damn base by hand."

"You think that's why she's doing it? We barely know her," Rose had replied.

"I've seen that determination before," Leia said, narrowing her eyes.

Rose crossed her arms. "Men can clean too."

"What do I know of the world nowadays?" Leia said, shrugging and walking in the other direction. "Just make sure she doesn't irritate Everett."

And then Rose remembered Finn's worry for Rey during that time and almost scoffed.

Despite Rey's disappointment with Kylo Ren, Rose had come to learn that cleaning was normal Rey behavior. She had done it right before she and Finn had ventured out to collect Ada and again when their spies informed them of Hale's existence. And with the bounty on her head, it seemed Rey had accepted her likely death every time she ventured beyond Elerin. Her face had been plastered across the galaxy since Kylo Ren gave the order for her arrest.

But skulking around and refusing to leave her room? Snapping at everyone and insisting to be alone? Definitely not Rey.

Rose would take a large helping of Cleaning Rey like it were the best breakfast available in the Resistance… _even_ …Rose mentally shuddered… _even_ if Rey were the chef.

"The droids never do a good job," Rey said, partially throwing Rose from her thoughts.

Still, Rose wondered if she cleaned because she missed scavenging and rebuilding. On Elerin, Rey's jobs were limited to training with Ada, Hale, and Everett, researching the Jedi ways, or fixing the Falcon with Rose. And when Leia was alive, she would call Rey into her quarters for her opinion on strategy more than she would Kaydel or Poe. But she was no commander or lieutenant. Rose assumed that she had never wanted to be.

Maybe it gave Rey a purpose. Maybe it was a habit. Or maybe her reasoning had never occurred to her before.

"And what's with the mask?"

"Allergies. Though, it looks like it came in handy for your room." And with that, she slipped the mask back over her face and began to stack Rose's mess into piles.

But, just then, a knock sounded on the baseboard of the open door, and Rose and Rey turned to meet Finn's furrowed brows.

Rose's mouth upturned at the sight of him. They had been officially dating for nine months, and yet, Rose still couldn't stop her face from beaming when she saw him. So many things had changed in the last year. So much good, so much bad. Their struggles to recruit more members while hiding from the First Order. Rose's long hours fixing old ships and helping the Resistance secure sponsors. Then, Leia's death. But this, _this_ was good, and all hers.

And she could never forget her shaking hands when she had asked him to be her boyfriend.

He had glanced at her, grinned, and said, "I thought I already was."

She tucked the memory away for another time when Rey wasn't around. She could think of quite a few things she didn't want Rey to see or know about.

Finn looked back and forth between Rose and Rey quizzically before saying, "What's with the mask?"

Rey lifted it off of her face again.

"Allergies," Rose and Rey said together, almost perfectly in sync.

"Right. Okay. My bad. For a minute I thought you were…" Finn shook his head. "Well, when you have a moment, you really should—" Finn's eyes wandered to the porg in his makeshift nest of blankets on the shelf. "What's with the bird—"

"Darth Squeaker. His name is Darth Squeaker," Rey said, smiling at Rose before they both broke out into laughter.

"Alright. No more questions. Sorry…sorry I asked. Rose, the meeting starts in fifteen minutes."

"What meeting?" Rey questioned, lowering her eyebrows.

"Uh...the council meeting."

She looked between Rose and Finn. "What council meeting?"

"Uh…uh…" Finn coughed, then quickly said, "The meeting to decide Leia's successor."

"WHAT? And none of you told me?"

Finn shot her the you-were-supposed-to-tell-Rey-yesterday-why-didn't-you look.

"I didn't want to disturb you…" Rose whispered, looking at her feet. "And with everything going on…we didn't think you'd want to hear any news about _him…_ "

Rey took off her gloves, bunching them up at her sides. "I'm fine."

"But last week you wanted to be alone, and the other night—"

"I'm fine, Rose."

Rose shared a glance with Finn. It had only taken one mention of Kylo Ren, and Rey was back to crossing her arms and glaring at nothing in particular. Rose knew she should just apologize and keep her mouth shut, but when did tiptoeing around Rey become _so_ damn hard?

"Rey," Finn murmured, breathing out. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you. I forgot and…I just…I just didn't think you were ready to…to jump right back in it all. You were the closest one to her."

Rose braced herself for Rey's inevitable outburst at Finn's mention of Leia in this way. She anticipated that harsh, callous tone as she berated them for speaking of wounds that Rey swore didn't exist. It was one thing for Rey to mention Leia herself and another for them to talk about her and how much she had meant to Rey.

But, instead, Rey only sighed and nodded her head. "Well, we have a council meeting to attend then."

* * *

 _ **Poe — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

Poe looked at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Today was the day. Today, he finally would be recognized for all of the trainings, strategy meetings, and missions he had completed over the past year. Today, he would be elected as the sole General of the Resistance.

"How do I look Beebee-Ate?"

The droid flashed him a mechanical thumbs-up and chirped satisfactorily.

"Today is the day! Let's go. It's almost show time."

Poe stood up from his bed and began to walk towards the Meeting Hall with Bee-Bee-Ate rolling behind him. If the droid had had human facial expressions, Poe imagined he would be smiling. He had worked just as hard as Poe.

When they had arrived on Elerin, many of Everett's people had volunteered to become Resistance pilots after they had heard of Sara's death. And together with Everett and Kaydel standing beside him, they had quietly recruited many others from nearby planets in the Elerinian System.

Poe had never thought it would be possible to replace their numbers after the devastation of The Fleet and again on Crait, but they had almost done it. They had almost done it, and Poe would be at the forefront of it all—the rebirth of the Resistance.

The thought made him straighten, and he sauntered into the Meeting Hall with a smile on his face.

But that was until he saw Kaydel standing at the front of the room. "You're hoping to be elected as General?" he inquired. "You aren't even a Commander. Commander D'Acy should be the one running, not you. "

"Anyone can run for General. The people decide. It's a democracy, not the Poe Show. I worked just as closely with General Leia as you did."

Poe stared at her, unamused, and was reminded of purple hair and blue eyes. _Holdo. Beautiful, Holdo._ He would be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss her. It had been a true waste of a woman, sacrificing herself like that. But Kaydel was not Holdo and could never be. Kaydel and Poe had worked together. Kaydel had taken orders from _him._

"You could have at least said something."

"Why should I? It's not a personal matter, Poe. It's business."

Poe rolled his eyes, turning his attention toward the gathering crowd. His gaze hovered over to a few of the pilots he had trained—David, Lily, Vera, Sina, and Lin, and then to General Ematt, Nien Nunb, and Commander D'Acy. He could at least count on their votes; he was sure of it. But what about the others?

Poe continued to look before his eyes stopped on Rey. He had barely seen her since Leia's funeral two weeks ago. And after she had woken everyone up in the East Wing last week, Poe had thought it best to leave her alone. It was what everyone except for Finn and Rose had decided to do, and Poe had been vocal about it.

"Man, just give her space," he had said to Finn the night after the incident. "She wants to be alone. If she wants help, she'll ask for it. She's a grown woman."

"It's what friends _do_ ," Rose had said, tearing into her bread roll like it were a piece of meat. "It's not like we all came rushing into her room at once. Finn only went in to check on her. What if she had been in trouble or something?"

Poe had enjoyed a good laugh at that. "Yeah, sure, Rey. Rey, the one who moved rocks that probably weighed 200 pounds each with only her mind. Rey, the one who faced Kylo Ren, won, and permanently scarred his face. Rey, the one who found Luke Skywalker and obviously convinced him to save our sorry asses. Rey, the one who helped Ren execute Snoke, A.K.A, one of the most powerful dark leaders since Darth Sidious. Miss the Most Hated Man In the Resistance Is My Boyfriend? _That_ Rey?"

"He's not her boyfriend," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "He tried to kill her and us."

"Sure, tell yourselves that. Had she convinced him to join the Resistance, you know where she'd be every night."

Rose threw a piece of bread at him. "Ugh. You're disgusting. Rey's not like that at all."

Even now, under these circumstances, remembering that conversation brought a smile to his face.

It wasn't that Poe was unconcerned with Rey; it was just that he knew the power of being left alone to grieve. He had trained and lost enough members of the Resistance to know exactly how it felt. Rey couldn't work through it if they spent the entire time hovering over her like she were some immature toddler. Sometimes Poe thought he was the only one that truly understood her. Most of the others may have left her alone like he had, but they had only done it because they were afraid of her—of her unchecked emotions.

Poe knew Rey hadn't come out of her room for any of them. She had come out because _she_ wanted to—because _she_ wanted their comfort now.

He made a note to see her soon, as long as it remained clear that she still wanted the company.

Everett, a lieutenant of the Resistance, and Chief of Elerin stood up and walked toward the front, directing Poe's attention away from Rey.

"Welcome back, everyone," he said, "I'm sorry we can't have this meeting under better circumstances, but we can't continue to operate without a leading General, as I am sure many of you understand. I know some of you are still grieving Leia's death, but the time has come for us to carry on her legacy. It's what she would have wanted. But first, Lieutenant Connix, please give us the State of the War Report."

Kaydel fiddled with her datapad, and Poe dreamed of ripping it from her hand. It would be fun, sure, but the consequences wouldn't be. Poe had already tried once to cross two Resistance women, and he didn't like the look of his face with a red handprint embedded into it.

"The most urgent news first—our spies on Kalenat reported that Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has not been seen for two weeks."

Whispers rebounded across the chamber, and Poe glanced at Rey again. She was rigid, her expression unreadable.

"He hasn't attended any meetings since around the time of General Leia's death. There's no word yet if he is being reported as officially missing, but it appears that the First Order is choosing to ignore it. We also have no word on where he's gone."

"That's cause the bastard killed her—"

"He probably feels guilty—"

"He deserves it—"

"His own mother—"

"Traitor—"

"That's enough!" Everett interjected, standing up. "We can't know any of that. And he is still Leia's son. You wouldn't think of saying these things in her presence, so don't say them now."

Suddenly, Lin stood up, his dark eyes burning. "He killed Sara and nearly wiped out every trace of the Resistance. How can you defend him?"

"Sit down! I'm not defending him. Sara was _my_ daughter; Ben Solo is Leia's son. It's poor taste. If he were Sara, all of you would be silent."

"Poor taste," Lin said, scoffing. "Poor taste is the fact that _that_ woman." He pointed to Rey. "Had every chance to kill him and didn't. I think it's clear where her loyalties lie."

"Sit down!" Everett repeated. "You wouldn't be here if it weren't for that woman. The Resistance wouldn't exist. If you say one more word, you will be banned from Resistance meetings for a month, do you understand?"

"Just sit down. It isn't worth it, man," Poe said.

Lin's eyes gradually softened, and he did as he was told. "Yes, Chief," he said, a small bite still evident in his voice.

Everett gestured toward Kaydel. "Please continue, Lieutenant Connix."

"The second report deals with Chandrila. As you all are aware, we have been unable to secure any sort of Resistance influence, despite the fact that General Leia spent a portion of her life there. However, Queen Isalara, has decided to grant us an audience following Leia's death. We will require a significant crew for this. All those that wish to join, please report to myself, Commander Dameron, Commander D'Acy, or General Ematt. Please keep in mind that this assignment could result in your deaths. If you are captured, we can't risk the First Order probing your minds for our location. We have managed to stay hidden thus far, and we have the advantage since some of our spies are still established among the ranks of the First Order."

A few people nodded their heads causing a warm feeling to rush through Poe. _They could actually do this thing: secure Chandrila for the Resistance—Ren's home planet._ It would send a powerful message to the galaxy if Chandrila chose to go against the Supreme Leader and the entire power of the First Order.

In fact, if they succeeded, they might actually win the whole damn war.

"Thirdly, we have received reports concerning Force Sensitives from the planets of Chandrila, Naboo, Jurha, and Eckrell. Rey, you can do what you want with this information. General Leia's policy on this will be maintained. The Resistance will not pressure you into risking your life to investigate these leads, but if you want to, we strongly suggest that you take a small, but well-armed crew as usual."

"I understand, Lieutenant," Rey said flatly.

Poe dozed off for the rest of the news, and only half-way started listening again when Kaydel reported that a few of the Porgs had gone missing and that Chewie was distressed. Chewie cried at that piece of information, looking around the room in his chair for validation, and Poe thought he saw Rose, Finn, and Rey sink further down into their seats.

But then, the moment he had been waiting for came.

"Alright," Everett began, rubbing his eyes. "We understand that this may feel too early to decide right now. But we are without leadership, and it's difficult to maintain a clear direction in this state."

He gestured to Poe and Kaydel. "These two officers are running to replace Leia as General."

He paused. Poe's heartbeat increased.

"However, we also have a letter from General Leia that should detail her preferences." He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket, and Poe cocked his head to the side.

Leia had hardly ever written anything without a datapad, but yet, a letter seemed more final, more authentic. Leia only wrote letters when she didn't want her words to be questioned. No one would with her original signature and stamp glaring back at them.

"General Leia gave this to me two months ago. I haven't tampered with it in any way. This letter will hold little weight because the Resistance values democratic vote, but we could all use Leia's guidance I think."

Suddenly, Everett handed it to Poe. "You should be the one to read it. Leia's last order was to make you commander before her death."

Poe clung to the letter, unable to move, his eyes meeting Kaydel's impatient expression.

Eventually, after thoroughly enjoying pissing Kaydel off, he nodded his head, took a deep breath, and tore into the envelope with his heart pounding. Though Leia had given him back his rank before she left, she could have named anyone in the letter. Just because Leia wanted him to lead didn't mean she wanted him to be the leader, and after the incidents with the dreadnought and Holdo, it had taken nearly a whole year to convince Leia that he was a competent commander.

"Everyone," the letter began, Poe's voice shaking slightly. "If you are listening to this letter, the Resistance has received a great blow indeed. The First Order has finally succeeded in their assassination plans. Or I've tripped over a blaster. Probably both."

No one laughed.

Usually, Leia's dry humor would have them chuckling for weeks. But now, the room was silent, almost suspended.

"For years, I've led the Resistance. I've stood against evil, powerful regimes and brought them down with all of your help. But now, it's my turn to sacrifice like so many brave members of the Resistance have before. Remember their names. My brother, Master Luke Skywalker. My friends, Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo and Admiral Ackbar. First Officer Sara Carinus, so beloved on Elerin…They should not be forgotten. But don't mourn. Leave that for the day when violent orders like the First Order are eradicated and when they no longer have the power to seduce anyone, like my son, with false promises of order and stability."

Poe took a breath. The next part was it.

"As to my preferences for general, you should vote for what you believe in. We are and have always been a democracy, not a dictatorship like the First Order. That is the difference." Poe's eyes fell on the next few words, and his heart stopped. _But the person you should look to the most is Rey, even though I know you won't choose her and even though she wouldn't accept the title of General. No matter your choice, trust her. She will lead you in the right direction. Trust in her judgement. Trust in—_

Everett cleared his throat, causing Poe to look up from the letter. "What is it, Commander Dameron?"

Poe shook his head. "Nothing. It's difficult. I'm sorry. Let me continue." He shifted to the end of the section. "I know you will all make the right decision. You will fight, and you will win. Hope lit the spark, and now you are the fire. You will burn the First Order down." Poe paused. "And hope? Hope will never be lost as long as you stand against the darkness. May the Force be with you…always…General Leia Organa."

Quickly, Poe folded the letter, tears clouding his eyes.

A few moments of silence followed, and Poe held his breath. Leia had wanted Rey. _Rey._ Rey who had never held any title or rank. Rey who had avoided every political strategy meeting she could despite Leia's persistence to include her. Rey who everyone could see cared deeply for the Supreme Leader of the First Order, though she would never admit it.

Despite his annoyance, Poe didn't omit the section because he was worried Rey would be elected in his place. Why would Leia mention her name with the opinions of the others so distorted? She knew how they saw Rey. Despite everything she did, she would always be an outsider. Perhaps Leia hadn't expected everyone to point their fingers at her when she had saved the entire order a year prior. Perhaps she also hadn't realized her own son would kill her. But had he really killed her? Everyone seemed to believe it. Poe believed it, but he also believed in Rey.

Poe met Rey's gaze, trying to comfort her with his eyes. Even with her brown hair disheveled and her eyes bruised, she was beautiful, intelligent. He saw everything that Leia had seen in her. He had even wanted her by his side. He still did. She reminded him of all the women that had stood up to him, like Leia and Holdo.

But, yet, like Leia, he also saw a darkness in her eyes and an unchecked biased opinion of the Supreme Leader. The Resistance didn't need that. If they needed to execute Ren to win, it must be done. They couldn't risk dying from uncontrolled compassion.

"Thank you, Commander Dameron," Everett said, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. "Let's take a vote now, shall we?"

* * *

 _ **Rey — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

When the meeting finished, Rey resumed cleaning, praying the mindless task would chase away the ghosts disturbing her mind—even if they came back thrice fold.

Yet, with each push of the ancient contraption, she realized that it would and never could be that simple.

It reminded her of her realization in the Throne Room all those months ago. How she had stared at his face—the lingering shadows under his eyes, the hair shrouding and enveloping his cheekbones—and knew what her decision had to be. How his life hadn't and had never been hers to take. How he hadn't turned from the darkness no matter how much she had believed he would.

The pull of the endless night and the lingering ghosts were one of the same, but she had been too self-righteous, too vindicated that she just couldn't see it before. If she couldn't rid herself of her own darkness, how could she ever expect Ben to? How could she ever expect him to come back to the Light, to the Resistance, and…to her?

But did she truly regret not taking his life?

No. She didn't.

She knew that had been a lie spoken with the darkness clouding her tongue. The words had felt good—so, so good—falling from her lips.

Until she had seen the tears in Rose's eyes.

And then, like Luke, she was left with shame. She could almost feel him calling out to her. _Don't make the same mistake I made. Don't. Please._

"Rey, what are you doing?" Everett said.

Rey realized she had been standing still and staring at nothing at all yet again. She removed her mask.

"Just vacuuming. The droids…" She cleared her throat, setting down the machine. "The droids never do a good job, and I just…"

"You should be with Hale and Ada. You haven't met with them for almost three weeks."

"I saw them in the council meeting," she said, refusing to look up at him.

"That's not the same."

She didn't respond.

"Rey? Why are you doing this? We need you to help lead and be the face of the Resistance. It's what Leia would have wanted."

For a moment, she saw herself through his eyes, and how strange she must have seemed—sorting through old junk cabinets, fixing an ancient vacuum from a time long dead, cleaning when the floors only held minor pieces of debris…

He had asked her this question before, and she had never answered it fully. It wasn't that she didn't want to; it was just that she wasn't sure how. She had only just begun to accept that her parents had never really been her parents at all—that she had always been like the ships left to die in the wastes of Jakku.

This time, she knew exactly how to answer his question.

"On Jakku, there were times when I couldn't go anywhere. Sandstorms that lasted for days. I would…I would read…and when it all became too loud, I…I would sweep. I would rearrange every piece of junk I owned, hoping that if my parents came back, that at least everything would be ready. I used to make a game out of it—I imagined I was just a regular girl doing her chores to please her parents and earn a few credits," she said, finally looking up.

He smiled at her, a lopsided grin that made him look older than fifty Elerinian years. For the first time, Rey became aware of the white strands in his black hair and the sun patches that had bleached his deep brown skin.

"Children always want to please their parents, even parents that don't deserve them."

"I'm sorry about Sara, Everett. I…I know we've talked about it before…but…I wish…I wish I could have saved the fleet and stopped the attack on Crait."

"No. I should have answered Leia's distress signal. But I felt Sara's life force fade…and I hesitated." He looked away. "Sara wouldn't want you to grieve her death. Leia was right. I'm not sorry at all for her. Nor should you be. She died fighting an order that rules based on fear and lies. She died doing what was right. We can mourn the loss of their presences, but we should never forget the reason for their sacrifices. And the more time you waste like I did, the more likely it is that their sacrifices will be for nothing."

"You're right."

"And if you do decide to investigate the new leads, try to see Ada and Hale before you go, yeah? They didn't know Leia for very long, but it's been hard on them too. You brought them into this war. Don't leave them without a teacher."

"I know," Rey said, sighing.

"And you may not think you're skilled or important to this cause, but you are," Everett continued. "None of those people in the Council Hall would be here today if it weren't for you. Remember that, when they mock you."

Rey paused, letting his words wash through her. "Poe and Kaydel. Tied. Who do you think will be elected after their trials are up?"

"Hard to say. Poe has the passion and the experience we need right now, but Kaydel is more methodological and organized. We will see how they do and then hold another referendum."

She nodded, swallowing. She hadn't voted. How could she? She knew nothing about what it took to be a general and what it took to lead an entire organization. She couldn't even keep the small order she had started on the right course. She couldn't read the Jedi texts. She couldn't fix Luke's lightsaber. A year had passed, and she had accomplished nothing. So how could her opinion hold any weight?

"And what…what do you make of the news…the news that he's disappeared? Do you think…do you think he killed her? Or…or-or-ordered her death?"

"I don't know. You said you saw light in him. I don't know if I can believe it like you do, but I'd like to believe his disappearance, with no news, has to do with some sort of rift in the First Order. So maybe he didn't kill her or give the command at all."

"I…hadn't thought of that."

Everett shrugged. "You've had a lot to take in these past two weeks. It's hard to be angry and not assume things."

"Do think he's in trouble?" For once, she missed the Force Bond. At least if it had still existed, she could make sure he was alright.

"You'd be the one to tell that. You felt Leia's passing faster than anyone else."

"I cut the bond. It's impossible. And I only felt Leia because I worried about her since the moment she left Elerin."

"I doubt that."

"Which part?"

"All of it. Stop assuming things are impossible. Stop assuming the bond is completely gone and that you only felt Leia's death because of your personal feelings for her. The Force should be impossible, but it's not. Your story should be impossible, but it's not."

Is that what she had been doing all this time? Is that what Leia's death had resorted her to? Broken and skeptical?

Broken and skeptical…

Like _Kylo?_

No, she had not let the darkness drown and erase every piece of her like Kylo. She knew she never could. It could call her in the sweetest voice, and though she may listen for a while, though she may take what she needed from it, the voices of the people she loved would call her back.

But, if she weren't Kylo and no longer herself, who, then, _had_ she become?

Rey pondered this, staring at Everett. Perhaps Kylo had never had an Everett. Or a Finn. Or a Rose. A true teacher—one that would help him find his own truth, separate from the dogmas of Light and Dark. Yes, Rey had seen that in his eyes when he had listened to her so impassively and attentively, as if the same shadows she spoke about were the ones he faced alone every day. He hadn't interrupted; he hadn't judged her like Luke—he had listened and responded with the three words that could make her weep even now.

And so then, Rey wondered: even if he had killed Leia, how much of the darkness was still _truly_ his choice? Could she have stopped it all—the destruction of the fleet, Luke and Leia's deaths, the slaughter of so many of their own—had she said yes? What would have happened if she had taken his hand and tried harder to convince him? Had it truly been the Force's will for her to leave? Had the very act of her leaving been a direct manipulation _against_ the Force?

Had she misunderstood the Force completely? And had so many people died, unnecessarily, because of it?

Her eyes grew wide, a cold sweat breaking across her skin.

She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure at all.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Special thanks to my beta editor, SilverStarwolfe.

As usual, if you like this story, reviews, subscriptions, favorites, and general comments or questions are my coffee. I reply back to every comment.

 **Question Time!**

 **"Why didn't you include a character and location tag for the first part of this chapter?"**

Oh, my dear reader...you will have to wait to find out. This character will be officially introduced in another chapter. For those that are familiar with the SW Legends, I am sure you have already figured it out by now. ;)

 **"Do Kylo and Rey still have the bond?"**

As in, the one Snoke created between them? No.

First, most of what we know about Force-Bonds is from the Legends which were deemed non-canon by Disney when they decided to take on the sequel trilogy. Unfortunately, due to this, it's hard to say if the Legend rules still apply.

Secondly, the novelization of TLJ states that Rey "severed" their connection on page 306. Now, severed can mean simply ended for now or completely broken off. It depends on your interpretation of this word.

Finally, Rian Johnson has stated that the Force-Bond is merely a "plot device" for TLJ. And as someone who studied writing techniques and went to school for writing, continuing the Force-Bond in IX would cut a lot of tension between Rey and Kylo. To reunite them in person with that being the first time they have seen each other in a year would be very emotional and full of tension/angst.

Nevertheless, it really is just open to your interpretation, and that's what Fry wanted to do by using a word like "severed" and being vague about Kylo and Rey's emotions during all of their scenes in TLJ. He even stated on twitter that the lack of description of Kylo's feelings/motivations was because he had "fear of stepping on IX." Instead, in a lot of ways, we have to interpret Kylo based on what he says and what others around them think. The idea of writing in his perspective for this story is more done for tension between him and Rey (i.e. the audience knows something they don't know). But is it likely that we will see much of his perspective especially in the way I have written? Probably not, but maybe. Though Abrams may not choose to show the change in Kylo until Rey actually sees him, these events/inner turmoil could still be happening.

— Bee


	6. Chapter 5: Am I The Enemy

(6)

 **Chapter 5: Am I The Enemy**

 _"Tentatively, he reached into his cloak pocket, pulling out a piece of brown fabric. It was frayed and torn, but it still smelled like sweat and fire; it still smelled…like her."_

(the title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Am I The Enemy," by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus)

* * *

 _ **Kylo — Darth Vader's Castle, Mustafar**_

"The light. I feel it every day."

He breathed out, tears clouding his vision.

"The pull is too strong. I can't fight it. Show me, grandfather. _Help_ me. Show me the power of the darkness."

The charred mask glared at him from its podium, silent and dead—the Force inert around it. "Please," he whispered, his lips trembling. " _Please_."

Alone. He was alone and had always been. How could he have believed that he heard his grandfather's voice? It had died with Snoke—yet another beautiful lie from the former Supreme Leader.

He chuckled, picking up the mask. "You can't hear me, can you? All this time…" He sighed, letting it slip from his fingers.

 _Only the darkness could ever understand you_. How Snoke had whispered those words as he sat with his head in his hands while his parents argued about what to do with him. That's all they had ever talked about: what to do with poor, angry Ben Solo. _There's too much Vader in him._ There was always too much Vader in him. Always too much anger. Always too much darkness. Always something wrong with him. His parents had seen it and sent him away, Luke had seen it and tried to kill him, and she… _she_ had seen it and severed their connection forever.

The elevator. The memory of her brown eyes. _I'll help you._

He picked up the mask from the floor, studying it. In the end, he had been too damaged, too broken, even for her. Her last look hadn't been one of hatred or love, but something far worse, something that made his chest burn even now.

He knew what he was. A monster. That's what he had seen in her eyes—a monster beyond her help, beyond her care, beyond her lo—

He threw the mask out of the open window, his chest heaving. She was a traitor. A liar. Incapable of empathy. He would find her and kill her, enjoying as she thrashed and screamed. He would—

But she had let him live. Why? She didn't care for him. She never had. Their bond—it had all been another lie fabricated by Snoke. At one time, he had believed it to be a sentimental, foolish decision that would be her downfall. But now, he wasn't so sure.

"Back to talking to the mask, huh, kid?"

He tensed, his hands curling into fists. "And what do _you_ want now, old man? Come to gloat some more? To finish what's left of me?"

"No."

A month ago, Luke had materialized during his daily meditations and exercises, but he had ignored his presence, training harder, running faster, shutting his eyes tighter. He remembered that conversation well, despite his determination not to. _We all fail. Learn from your failure._ He hadn't been surprised at all by his appearance. He had learned about Force Ghosts from Luke himself and always knew it was just a matter of _when_ he would appear.

His head jerked toward Luke's ghostly body standing by the door to his chamber. He was older and his beard was longer, much unlike the night he had tried to kill Ben Solo. It was another reminder of his failure on Crait, and he couldn't blame Luke for it. No, he should have noticed how his feet made no footprints in the salt, how his appearance hadn't changed in seven years. But he hadn't. And he had paid for it. He was _still_ paying for it. Supreme Leader or not, he could still occasionally hear snickers when his back was turned.

"So tell me is it possible to kill a force ghost? How does _that_ work?"

"Ben...always my most curious student."

"And always your biggest disappointment." He shook his head. "Ben Solo is dead."

Luke laughed. "I'm haunting the wrong person then. My dear apologies, great Supreme Leader."

"What do you want?" he said, resting a palm over his eyes.

No answer. He removed his hand from his face to find Luke standing in front of him, his blue eyes examining his.

"So who are you now? Kylo Ren? Supreme Leader?"

He returned the intensity of his stare. "Go bother your chosen one. I'm sure she would love to listen to your lessons on the best ways to kill me."

Luke laughed again. "I doubt those lessons would be of any use to her since you're clearly still alive."

"Tell me. Why you? Why not Vader?"

"Darth Vader wouldn't have anything useful for you...Anakin, on the other hand…"

"Anakin betrayed the darkness for _you_. He was weak. Like you."

"Still holding on." Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Love is weakness? So what are you doing with that scrap of cloth in your pocket?"

His eyes grew wide. "How do you know about that?"

Luke raised his eyebrows, mocking him.

Tentatively, he reached into his cloak pocket, pulling out a piece of brown fabric. It was frayed and torn, but it still smelled like sweat and fire; it still smelled…like _her._ He had found it on the Throne Room floor a year ago, a reminder that even if Snoke had created their connection, even if her feelings had never been true, _she_ still had been real. Real and exquisite, dancing beside him as they cut through the guards. He had wanted to watch her, study her, worship her.

"It means nothing to me," he said, putting it back in his pocket.

Luke shook his head, smirking. "Ben Solo, Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader…you're still a horrible liar."

"Just leave me alone!" he snapped, intending it to sound menacing, guttural. But the voice was not that of a grown man or of Kylo Ren. Instead, it belonged to a boy—a boy who could never stop being Ben Solo, no matter how hard he tried to destroy him.

And when he unclenched his eyes, Luke was gone. Breathing out, his gaze wandered to the stone chair in the middle of the chamber—the place he imagined Vader once sat and plotted his empire.

He walked to it, brushing his fingers across its glossy surface. He had Vader's castle, the order of the Knights of Ren, and sole dominion over the First Order. Han Solo was dead. Luke was dead. His mother…was dead. Finally, he had finished what Vader started and claimed his birthright. Finally, on the surface, every piece of Ben Solo was gone.

So why did none of it feel like a victory?

He pulled out the cloth again, rubbing it between his fingertips. Luke was right. He was a poor liar. But what could he do? Show up at the Resistance's doorstep and beg her to be with him? He didn't need her. He didn't need her to lead him through the Light. The Light had betrayed him. _She_ had betrayed him.

 _Enough_. It was time to let go of the past. Luke was right. He was still holding on. He moved to throw the fabric in the wastebasket, his hand trembling over it.

 _Let go._ His hand shook harder. _Let go_. _Let—_

He couldn't do it. Snoke was right. He was too weak, too sentimental, too much like _Han Solo_. Dejectedly, he placed the material back in his pocket.

He looked out at the lava fields of Mustafar, watching Gareth and Kena spar on the metal courtyard. Red against red. Fire against fire.

Kena whirled to parry an attack, her loose brown hair flying.

Gareth broke away, his lightsaber grazing her back as she ducked, a growl escaping her lips.

With a laugh, Gareth said, "You're improving, my love. Just not fast enough."

Kena smiled, drawing him in with her eyes. He relaxed, and before he could fully process her intent, she raised the lightsaber to his neck, the heat searing his flesh.

"Yet, I still win, _my love_ ," she said, then slowly lowered her weapon.

 _Rey's scream as the guard singed the flesh on her arm. His focus pulled away, her pain blending into his._

They could never understand what it felt like—what the taste of her pain had done to him—how every instinct urged him to go to her, to help her, to smother the fire from her body until she had no memory of it at all.

An aching filled his chest. Why had he come here? They looked to him for guidance and leadership. To them, he was Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, Jedi killer, and their bringer of justice.

He couldn't lie anymore. He knew what he needed to find. He knew where he needed to go.

* * *

 _ **Rey — The Resistance Base, Elerin**_

"Smile! It'll be fine!" Rose said, pinching Rey's arm.

"Ow! You know, when I said I was going alone to Chandrila to investigate the lead, it wasn't an invitation for the _whole_ Resistance to come," Rey said, rubbing her throbbing skin.

"Grumpy pants. It's just me, Finn, Ada, Hale, and Chewie."

"And, you know, a _large_ Resistance ship leading ahead." Rey sighed, cursing herself for not escaping in the middle of the night. She wanted time to think. She couldn't do that while she worried about her friends burning in an array of laser fire. But unfortunately, she had been overridden by Poe, Everett, and the Resistance's mission to secure Chandrila's support.

Rose rolled her eyes. "You know it's better cover for us to slip through."

"I still want to go alone. If something happens because of me, I wouldn't—"

"Nothing's going to happen," Ada chimed in, crossing her arms. "Leia went alone to Gethen and look what happened to her."

Abruptly, the sight of Leia's motionless body flew to the forefront of Rey's mind. _The floor doused in haunting crimson_ — _crimson that smothered the breath from her lungs_. _How it drowned the cold floor and seeped into her tunic, creeping into the very fibers of its making._ She had stared and stared at that stained tunic for days afterwards.

No, she didn't need to be reminded of the consequences this trip could have.

And just when she thought the memories would break her, she turned, and all of those thoughts faded into the background at the sight of Ada's hair.

Today, it was braided across the side of her head, ending in two buns near the nape of her neck. Small Kilades added pops of color throughout, and she had finished the look with multiple silver chains that Leia had given her for her birthday. It was a complete change from when Rey had first found her on Hothel—sixteen years old, owned by one of the most powerful men in the Hothelian system, stinking in tattered rags. Rey, in comparison, hadn't changed much. The buns were gone, her hair was loose, and yet, she couldn't think of anything else to do with it. Ada had offered to show her, but Rey had turned her down.

At first, the loss of her buns had felt unnatural and wrong, but after Ahch-to, Crait, and… _Ben,_ she knew it was the right decision. She had changed in the past year; it was only right that her hair did too. Vaguely, she wondered if that was her version of letting the past die, and chuckled to herself.

"We've already been through this before. You aren't going alone anywhere anymore," Finn said, smiling and punching her arm. "You can protest all you want, or you can shut up and get on the ship."

"I want to hit you," Rey said, returning his grin.

He winked. "But you won't."

"You're lucky."

Together, they boarded the _Starsearcher,_ a ship Everett gave them to replace the infamous Millennium Falcon. After the battle on Crait, the Falcon had become the most wanted vessel in the galaxy. Which meant that it sat idle once again, becoming yet another relic that Rey sought to preserve. She dreamed of a day when the war was over—when it was _all_ over—but that day was far off and disappearing faster with each setback.

The Republic was still in shambles. Leia had sent representatives to the Resistance's remaining allies after the destruction of the Hosnian System and the Raddus, but had received no response. The only one to eventually answer their call for help had been Everett, and even he had waited for days after Crait.

Rey wondered how Poe could secure Chandrila's support again. They had completely ignored their messages until Leia's death. It was convenient—all _too_ convenient. Perhaps being hunted for a year with a bounty of one hundred thousand credits, brought to her by the wonderful Supreme Leader himself, made her overly skeptical. Or perhaps she was right, and they would be landing themselves in a trap.

Rey jumped in the pilot's seat beside Finn. "Where's Chewie?"

Finn tilted his head to the side. Chewie was standing in the hallway, porgs climbing all over his body.

"Oh," Rey said, laughing.

Unexpectedly, Finn grabbed her hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I think so."

This time she didn't pull away.

"Good," he said, smiling at her. His eyes searched hers, intense and strange. "Rey—"

"Everything appears to be good for takeoff. We just need—" Rose stopped at the sight of their interlocked hands.

Rey quickly wrenched her hand away, turning her attention to the controls.

And just when Rey thought the silence would never end, an alarm sounded, and Rose left again to check on it.

"You know, you really should be honest with her about your feelings," Rey mumbled.

Finn breathed out, saying nothing.

There was a delicate balance between them, that much Rey knew. Before Ahch-to, she had always thought it would just be Finn and her. Them against the world with the Resistance beside them. A part of her had even thought they might… _end up_ together, despite her hesitations. He had been her first, true friend—the first person to awaken something in her that she had never know was missing before.

But then the Force Bond had manifested and thrown her far beyond Finn's reach—far beyond everyone and into another's hand. And though Rey couldn't deny there was something still between her and Finn, Rose loved him with a fervency that Rey would never have.

"She adores you." Rey turned toward the empty doorway. "You care about her, so be honest with her."

Finn looked away. "What happened between us, Rey? You've been distant for a long time."

"Nothing. Why?" Rey fiddled with a loose wire.

"I know you don't want to talk about it…but what _really_ happened between you and him?"

"I already told you."

"No, you told me what you told everyone else. Do I look like everyone else?"

She shook her head. Before Leia's death, she would have repeated the same story: Snoke created a connection between them. He was kind to her, almost gentle, and she saw light in him. So much light that she sought him out and helped him put an end to Snoke's reign. Yet, he wanted a partner, not to turn from the darkness, but to take Snoke's place as Supreme Leader. And so she left him, unconscious on the throne room floor, believing he would trust the Force enough to make the right decision, eventually, on his own.

But now she wondered if there was any truth to their connection at all—if even her feelings for Ben had been manipulated by Snoke. He had been powerful and well-versed in the Dark Side, holding her in the air and forcing her to bend like a paper doll. But did he have the ability to control their feelings? Rey wasn't sure. She hadn't been sure of anything since Leia's death.

"Has Poe been telling you more of his conspiracy theories lately?"

"Yes, but—"

"That's your problem. You listen to Poe," she said, flipping a few switches.

"He tried to kill us, Rey. You could at least act like you still care."

"You think I don't realize that? You think because I tried to save him, it means I agree with him?"

"Any news of him, and it's like you're not even here. Like you're somewhere else…with him."

Rey sighed. "I know you don't believe he'll turn. I doubt it every day. But we _have to_ have hope. We _have to_ believe."

"Yeah, sure. Your interest is only getting him to join the Resistance."

"I don't know what my interests are!" she shouted, standing up. "But at least I'm honest with myself!" Ben's rejection played in her head. Then Crait. Death. So much death _._ It was too much.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. "Everything okay?" Ada inquired, her face scrunching.

Rey straightened her tunic. "Yes. Ready for takeoff?"

"Yeah, Rose is just checking a faulty sensor I think." Ada answered, taking a step back.

"Where's Hale?"

"Helping Rose."

"Good. Buckle up," Rey snapped, stealing one more look at Finn. His jaw was clenched; his eyes focused straight ahead.

Though he was quiet, their conversation wasn't over. And with likely a week together ahead of them, Rey knew every day would be like a bomb inching closer to detonation.

She at least hoped the fallout would be quick.

* * *

 _ **Poe — The Galuxian**_

Poe's eyes grew wide. A blockade. He should have expected it. Isalara's contact had been too opportune and soon after Leia's death.

"Commander Dameron? Commander? Poe! What is this?" Rey's voice was saying over the intercom.

His hand paused on the receiver. Should they turn around before it was too late? Could those ships belong to the First Order?

The wealth of Chandrila spilled out before him, blues and greens shining against the backdrop of space. He was so close. Would he risk it?

"Stay behind, out of range," he choked. "I'll make contact."

"Commander, I don't think that's a good idea," D'Acy said, eyeing the silver ships before them.

Poe ignored her, jumping out of the pilot's seat. "Let's go, Beebee-Ate."

BB8, however, didn't move. Instead, he looked between Poe and D'Acy and chirped skeptically.

"Commander, the droid's right. You're the leader of this ship. You shouldn't be the one to go."

"Just stay out of range," Poe said, beginning to walk toward the direction of the hanger. "Now or never, buddy!"

Overridden, BB8 followed behind him, letting out a few dissatisfied chirps.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I make terrible choices."

The droid seemed to brighten at that comment, speeding up to roll beside him.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're on my side at all," Poe said.

He reached the hanger and jumped into the cockpit of his new fighter ship. It reminded him of the evacuation from D'Qar after the destruction of Starkiller Base. Before they had nearly lost the entire Resistance at the hands of their General's son. How he had made a fool of Hux. He smirked, a part of him hoping it was the First Order just so he could taunt that pasty redhead some more.

"This is Commander Dameron, disembarking from the Galuxian. Please open the hangar door," he said into the receiver.

"Access granted, Commander," came Lin's voice. A moment later the door opened, and Poe was back in his element.

He pushed his ship slowly, his finger hovering over the missile launch trigger and his heart pounding.

Suddenly, his receiver crackled to life. "You are entering the airspace of the Chandrilian Republic. State your vessel number, name, and reason for entering."

 _Chandrilian Republic._ Maybe they weren't First Order ships after all. It was worth the risk. Even if he went up in flames, the Resistance wouldn't be lost. Still, his hands shook.

"This is Commander Poe Dameron. Vessel number G-333. Her Royal Highness, Queen Isalara is expecting me."

A pause. Poe's hand continued to linger over the trigger.

"We noticed you have three vessels, Commander. Queen Isalara has only granted permission for one."

A gargle of nervous sounds radiated from BB8.

"Yeah, I know it's suspicious, buddy." He paused, biting on his cheek. But what could he do? This mission had been his idea. His election as general depended on its success. If he turned back now, the Resistance would be in the same place it had been in for a year, letting time pass because they were too afraid to act. He would look like a coward. And Kaydel— _that_ annoying woman—would be elected in his place.

"I understand," Poe finally said. "Requesting permission for vessel G-363 to make contact."

"Access granted to make contact on Hanna City, Commander. We will inform Her Majesty of your arrival."

Poe breathed out. If they made it out of this alive and succeeded in securing Chandrila's support, Kaydel would never have a chance.

He turned his ship around, holding onto that thought.

 _General_ Dameron.

* * *

 _ **Finn — The Starsearcher**_

"Chandrila has only given us permission to land one of our ships," Poe explained after stepping into the Command Room on the _Starsearcher._ "The Galuxian is too large and too important to the Resistance. I think we should take this ship."

Finn's mouth hung open, his eyes meeting Rose's. "It's a trap, Poe," he said, glancing at Rey and hoping to catch her attention. But she was staring at her feet, no doubt picturing each of their deaths. And right now, Finn definitely was too.

He wanted to take her into his arms and breathe words of reassurance into her hair. But after their earlier conversation, he was sure she wouldn't be speaking to him for a few days at least.

"It could be, yeah," Poe said, resting a hand on his hip. "I know you had a mission to investigate the Force-sensitive lead here, but you could stay behind with the Galuxian."

"I hope you're seriously _not_ suggesting going alone," Rose said.

"No. I'll take a small crew."

"Nope, not happening," Rey suddenly chimed in. "I have a lead to investigate. I'm not staying behind."

"It's probably a trap. If someone has to go, I'll go in your place, Rey," Finn said, urging her to meet his eyes. She didn't.

"This is my mission, not yours, Finn."

"Rey's right," Rose said. "But we stick together."

Rey looked over at Hale and Ada. "You two are staying behind."

"What?! No fair!" Hale shouted, his brown eyes bulging. "It's my first mission! You said I could go!"

"No, _Everett_ said you could go," Rey replied, her face washed with exasperation. "I'm overruling his decision."

Sometimes Finn wondered how Rey could stand training Hale in the Force. At fourteen-years-old, he was deep into that rebellious teenager stage with no end in sight. For the entire trip, he had insisted on helping Rey and Finn fly the _Starsearcher_ , but if a buzzer sounded, he was the first to jump out of his seat and investigate it. Finn had _still_ been trying to explain why he couldn't abandon his job when Poe contacted them asking to board.

"And I'm overruling yours, Rey," Poe said. "We knew there was a possibility of danger. You can't protect them forever, and more Force users could save our hides."

"They're _my_ students, Poe," Rey retorted, her eyes narrowed.

"And who gave you this ship and the mission to track down Force sensitives?"

Rey scoffed and shook her head.

"We all risk our lives every day for the Resistance. Young, old, force sensitive or not. I respect your opinion, but Hale and Ada came to help _all_ of us. That doesn't change because it's a little more risky than we thought," Poe said.

Finn studied Rey. Her lips were parted like she wanted to argue, but she didn't speak.

And from the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose's gaze on him. It was like she always had a tracker on Finn's attention, but even if she noticed his preoccupation with Rey, she never said anything. And she wouldn't. It wasn't like Rose. All Rose ever did was worry about him. The thought made his stomach churn, and he dreaded facing her alone after what had happened earlier with Rey.

Ada touched Rey's arm. "It's okay, Rey, really. We'll be fine."

Rey breathed out, nodding. "So what's the plan? I hope you don't think we can just waltz into Chandrila together like such a happy little family."

"Yeah," Poe replied. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting. Hide your faces. Then, sneak away when you can."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Rose whispered while Poe and Rey stared each other down.

A few seconds passed before Rey said, "Let's hope you're right, _Commander._ "

"Great to have your support," Poe stated. "Now here's the plan. Rey, Rose, Finn, Hale...you'll disguise yourselves as part of my guards. When I meet with Isalara, they will probably ask you to stand outside the door. Abandon the disguises and get away when you can. And Chewie, sorry buddy, but I need you stay behind with the ship."

The Wookiee raised his arms and let out a cry.

"I know. Most boring job ever. But someone's gotta do it. You might be saving our asses if this goes sour."

"What about Ada?" Finn asked.

Poe straightened, looking a bit uncomfortable. "She'll go with me."

"Uh uh. No," Rey blurted out. "You're not taking her just so she can be stand there and look pretty on your arm. Not happening."

"It's okay, Rey. I want to go. I'm happy to help the Resistance in any way I can."

"We don't even have lightsabers, Poe. We aren't bodyguards."

Poe rubbed his eyes. "No, but you have blasters and the Force. You're smart. Use them."

"Rey? A word?" Finn said, gently touching her arm. He knew he would owe Rose a big explanation...and an apology kiss after this mission, but he couldn't think about that right now.

Rey didn't move, her body rigid and unyielding.

"Rey. Come on. It's just me. Just talk to me in the hallway for a moment."

A few seconds passed before Rey's shoulders finally unwound. Sighing, she followed him out, but not before throwing an icy glance in Poe's direction.

"I know I'm the last person you want to talk to," Finn began, looking toward the Command Room to see if anyone was watching. "Well...besides Poe. But you can't fight him like this. Leia wanted him to lead."

"He's going to get us all killed."

"This isn't like you," Finn said, searching her face for something—anything—that could tell him the Rey he knew was still in there somewhere.

"Like I don't know," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Finn's heart stopped. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her...nothing more than to go back to the way they were. But it wasn't just him and Rey anymore. And it would never be only him and Rey again.

Still, maybe, just this time, they could pretend that Kylo, Rose, Poe, and the reality of the world didn't exist. Even if just for a moment.

And so, he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent—that earthy, industrial scent still lingering on her skin despite over a year away from Jakku. It reminded him of the day they first met. How her face had grown into that slight smile when he said he was with the Resistance—the one he would spend a year reliving and putting to memory, lest he forget. He never wanted to forget. He couldn't. He _wouldn't_ let it happen.

At first, she stood there as stiff as she had been in the Command Room. But gradually, she began to relax and returned his embrace.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I just don't understand what you see in him."

A small laugh escaped her lips. "No one does."

He pulled back, probing her eyes. "Be happy. That's all I want."

She sighed, looking at her feet. "I just...I just wish it was all over."

"It will be," he said, grabbing her hands. "Listen to Poe. Stick together. That's what we gotta do right now, okay?"

Rey nodded. "I hope you don't get into too much trouble with Rose."

"I won't." Finn gave her a wry smile, cursing himself. She was right. He needed to be honest with Rose. He couldn't keep pretending while images of Rey lingered in the back of his mind. It didn't matter that Rey had feelings for another. It didn't matter that Finn knew she would choose Kylo if he turned from the darkness. None of it did.

Because now he understood that reality didn't mean anything. Even if they didn't pan out, even if Rey didn't return his affection, his feelings were still his own. They were still his responsibility. They still had the power to nurture or destroy everyone in his path.

And so, he smiled, squeezed Rey's hand one last time, and returned to the Command Room.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

I am sorry that I am a day late on this update. I have been working every night for hours to get this chapter out. Comments, whether positive or negative, are greatly cherished and valued. I reply to every single one. As a writer, my goal is to connect with people. If you don't want to post a public review, send me a PM and have a chat. I love talking about this project, SW in general, or even Game of Thrones. Questions are also welcome.

And to the wonderful Reylos still with me: the content you have been waiting for will happen soon.

Special thanks, once again, to my beta, SilverStarwolfe. She constantly stayed up with me as I developed and wrote this chapter and provided so much invaluable insight. Without her, this chapter would have suffered immensely.

Have a lovely day!

— Bee


	7. Chapter 6: Fear and Loathing

(7)

 **Chapter 6: Fear and Loathing**

 _Oppression. Greed. Even if he had stopped actively listening to the Force, he couldn't ignore the darkness that festered in every grain of sand under his feet. He knew darkness. He had spent the last seven years in it, pledging his life.  
_

(The title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Fear and Loathing," by Marina and the Diamonds)

* * *

 _ **Kylo — Tatooine**_

His eyes burned in the light of the twin suns as he scanned the desolate landscape.

Back on a wretched desert planet. And this time, he couldn't blame it on a murder plot. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and soaked his dark robes, the heat smothering the will to move his body.

No water. Only heat. Heat that reminded him of Gethen and his mother. Heat that brought back images of what he had failed to stop all those weeks ago.

 _Anywhere._ He could have gone _anywhere._

Bringing a canteen to his lips, he took a drink of tepid water and reached into the Force, running his fingers over the scrap of cloth in his pocket. He hated this part—this letting go of his senses and will and simply listening. The pressure of Luke's baton on his back still lingered in his brain, a phantom feeling he could never quite shake. _Stop! You're letting your anger fight for you. That is the path to the Dark Side._

" _Tatooine_? Not gonna lie, kid. Didn't see this one coming."

He startled and choked mid sip, a snarl rising to his lips. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Always so pleasant," Luke said, smiling.

"Yes. I'm a _complete_ failure. Now, will you go away?"

He continued surveying the landscape, trying hard to look anywhere but in Luke's direction.

Yet, as always, Luke wasn't so easily disposed of. He walked ahead of him, sunlight shining through his body. "Anakin Skywalker was born here. Did you know that?"

"Of course. Because you talked _so_ much about him," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You all thought I couldn't handle the truth."

Luke considered that for a moment, then said, "Well, now you know."

"That's it?" he said incredulously. "You're not going to ask me why I came here?"

Luke tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips. "A word of advice, kid. Watch out for the Tusken Raiders. They'll skin you alive."

His hands curled into fists. Why did he feel the need to justify himself to Luke? Luke had turned his back on him. Ben Solo had given _everything_ to become a Jedi. It had been a chance to prove his father wrong—to prove them _all_ wrong—to show them he wasn't the monster he saw in their eyes, that he could do something good, be of some use to the universe, and not the cause of the fear burning in their concerned glances. But, in the end, Snoke had been right about Skywalker, about his entire family. And he had killed him...for _her_. For someone that didn't care if he lived or died.

His jaw ticked. He needed answers. Would Tatooine provide that? He didn't know. But he had to try.

It was the former home of both Anakin and Luke. There had to be something here, anything that could point him on the right path, tell him where to go, what to do, _how_ to live. He couldn't do it anymore while Hux schemed and destroyed by his side.

He reached harder into the Force, his brow creasing.

 _East. Go east._

He opened his eyes. Luke was gone.

Breathing in, he turned toward the black sandspeeder behind him and jumped in. This time, he had been able to acquire one much more comfortable than that stolen contraption on Gethen.

He looked back at his ship once more before pushing the sandspeeder east, his hands shaking. What would he find? What did the Force want him to see?

The heat waves danced along the sand dunes, blurring and blending together—a disorientating mirage of silver that blinded him and made it difficult to focus. But still, he persisted. Still, he quieted his thoughts and listened.

 _East,_ that soft voice urged him. _Stay east._

Then, eventually, he saw it—a speck of tan ahead, the detail unfolding with every mile gained. Sand walls without a roof, like an ancient relic barely clinging to existence. Whatever it had once been was nearly unrecognizable.

Reaching the hovel, he got out of the speeder and willed his shaking legs to move.

But before he could take a step, screams flooded his head. Blasters firing and firing again and again until the life flew from their eyes. Fire—ruthless fire peeling away at flesh until only bones remained.

 _Owen. Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru._ The names—he had never heard them before. And yet, they felt so natural, so much like a part of him. His eyes wandered towards the side of the ruined building to where two stone markers stood in solidarity.

He walked to them, screams continuing to swirl and beat against his skull. He could almost _feel_ the heat and see the terror in their eyes as the flames lulled them into eternity.

The names...the names were correct. They glared at him in crude handwriting, the strokes weathered and faint.

The throbbing in his chest worsened. Turning away, he walked down the stairs of the entrance and ran his fingertips along the scorched, blackened marks branded into the orange walls. _What weapon could have caused that?_

Luke suddenly appeared and mirrored his movement, splaying his palm against the stained wall. "Your great uncle and aunt were murdered here by Imperial Stormtroopers looking for a droid that carried the stolen plans for the Death Star." He sighed, looking away. "I was too late."

He didn't respond, pondering Luke's words. His family had kept so much from him. So many secrets for so many years. _Why?_ Why hadn't they trusted him even with this minuscule knowledge?

Navigating over debris, he walked into what was once another room, and his eyes widened. Even after decades of sand and decay, he could clearly make out a broken moisture adapter sitting on an old desk, the metal impossible to ignore.

"You don't know how many hours I spent at this desk wishing I was anywhere else," Luke said with a smile, his hand passing through the broken piece of machinery. "But now..." He laughed. "What I wouldn't give to go back one more time."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he said, hurt coating his voice.

"Leia thought it best to start over. No more talk of pain or the Empire. And you were her son. She wanted to shield you from all of that. It wasn't my place."

He turned away, trying to block out his mother's voice—trying to block out the memories that always brought nothing but pain. Snoke had twisted each and every one, and he still couldn't decipher what was tangible and what was only a phantasmal shadow of the truth.

The screams returned. He gripped his head, images from a year ago flooding his brain—the ones he told himself didn't matter every night like a somber lullaby.

 _You cannot deny the truth that is your family._

Silhouettes scattered across the floor, their eyes appearing to be closed in sleep. Then, he took a closer glance and realized.

They weren't sleeping.

They were—

Bodies. Bodies stacked and stacked on top of each other, lording over him, mocking him. _Look what you've done. Look at the pain you've caused. Look, look, look, little Ben Solo._ The villagers. Tekka. His...his _father._

He looked down at his shaking hands, slowly turning them over.

They were dripping with crimson. Covered in—

Blood.

His stomach contracted. Quickly, he stumbled from the hut and retched into the sand, his meager breakfast from earlier violently spilling from him. The images hounded him again and again as his body heaved and emptied until there was nothing left to expel.

It didn't matter what the Force wanted. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face it.

He wiped his mouth, picked himself up from the ground, and jumped into the speeder as fast as his churning stomach would allow.

 _Damn it all. Skywalker. Solo. Leia. Rey. Let it go. Kill it if you have to. Kill it. Kill it._

He engaged the engine and didn't look back.

* * *

 _ **Kylo — Mos Eisley, Tatooine**_

Orange clay. A town made entirely from the same orange clay as Owen's hovel.

His eyes roamed the dirty faces of the citizens around him—people who didn't look up when he guided the speeder through the narrow pathways, their clothes threadbare and stinking.

Oppression. Greed. Even if he had stopped actively listening to the Force, he couldn't ignore the darkness that festered in every grain of sand under his feet. He knew darkness. He had spent the last seven years in it, pledging his life.

He stopped the speeder in front of what appeared to be a cantina, his mouth dry. He had run out of water a few miles back, and the taste of bile was still strong and persistent.

Covering his face up to his eyes with his cowl, he walked into the building, looking for a place to sit at the bar. _One drink. I just need one drink_ , he thought, panting. Thankfully, he spotted an empty spot towards the end of the counter and hurried to it, falling into the chair with more force than he intended.

The creature working behind the counter instantly walked to him, his bloated belly pressed against the metal. "Ain't seen you in these parts before. Not that I can see much of you. What'll you have?"

Without removing his makeshift mask, he slipped a handful of credit chips to him. "Twistler."

"What planet you think you're on? You ain't on Corellia. We don't have that here."

 _How could he have said that?_ "Then just give me a shot of whiskey. Whyren's Reserve if you have it."

"What do you think this place is, rich boy?"

"Ale. The _bitterest_ and most _impure_ ale you have. I'll have that," he replied through gritted teeth. "And there's extra in it for you if you ensure I am not disturbed under any circumstances."

The creature sucked in his lips. "How much you willin' to pay?"

"Five hundred credits."

"One thousand."

"Done. Now, I want _my_ _drink_ ," he said, narrowing his eyes.

When the creature came back, he slid an amber-colored liquid to him in a cheap glass bottle.

 _Ardees_. He shuddered, but lowered his cowl and took a swig anyway. For a few moments, he sat at the bar, gulping down his petrid drink and listening to the sounds of the cantina around him.

Smugglers. Thieves. All traitors, all liars. He shuddered again, struggling to swallow. _Coming to Tatooine was a mistake._

Then, he heard _it._

"Camie was back last week. Old man Marstrap finally kicked the bucket."

 _Camie. Camie Marstrap._ Surely, it couldn't be the same Camie—the one he had searched the galaxy endlessly for since the burning of the Jedi Academy?

"Shame you couldn't hold her down. She was lookin' pretty even for an old hag," another voice said.

Suddenly, he stood and turned toward the direction of the first man, raising his cowl to conceal his identity again.

"What did you say?" he choked out, his heart pounding.

The man jumped slightly. "You talking to me?"

He stalked to him, his hand hovering over his sheathed lightsaber. " _What_ did you say? The name."

"Mind your own business, princess. I wasn't talking to you."

Faster than the man could react, he pinned him to the dirt wall and brought the glowing blade to his neck.

Someone fired a blaster at him, but he rebounded the shot with the Force, his attention never wavering from the scum under his arm.

"Kylo...Kylo Ren," the man whispered, his eyes wide.

And at the sound of his name, the music stopped, conversations ceased, and he felt everyone's eyes lock on his back.

He removed the fabric covering his mouth, fully exposing his identity. "The _name_. What did you say?"

"We don't want any trouble," another said. "Loneozner here is sorry."

"I'm sure he is," he spat. " _Camie Marstrap._ Where is she?"

"You're not gonna hurt her, right?" Loneozner said.

 _You'll just have to find out,_ he wanted to say.

But then he thought of it, the memory of her blue eyes filling his head. What _would_ he do once she was in his grasp? Throughout his life, he had only found kindness and compassion in her gaze. Where Luke had found fault in him, she had always found strength. _Her hand on his, the way she placed it so delicately on his skin._ _You did well today, Ben._

"No. Just tell me where I can find her," he said, desperation lacing his voice despite his every effort to control it.

Perhaps at one time, their meeting would have ended with her death.

This time, however, he needed something only she could give.

"I can't do that," Loneozner said. "I pro-pro-promised."

He grimaced. "Get comfortable then."

Raising a hand over Loneozner's face, he delved into his thoughts, meticulously slicing through his brain, bypassing every personal, irrelevant bit of his weak mind until he found it, and his memory of Camie's salt-and-pepper hair turned to grey.

 _"What happened to you, Camie?" Loneozner's voice said. "Why'd you come back? You never cared too much for your old man."_

 _Camie was silent, her eyes locked on his. Finally, she sighed and said, "Fixer...Do you remember the days when we were younger, before it all?"_

 _"Yeah. Before you ran off after Luke." He laughed bitterly, smiling. "Don't tell me you came back just to see me."_

 _She returned his smile, her eyes teary. "Luke's dead. He's been gone for a year."_

 _"What?" He had heard gossip about Luke's death, but a part of him had thought it was only a rumor, only speculation. After all, there had been no mention of a body._

Suddenly, Luke's ghost appeared beside him. "You have to stop or you're going to kill him!"

"Go away," he hissed, trying to return to the stream of memories.

 _"Yes. It's true. I felt it the minute he faded into the Force," Camie said._

 _"You loved him. Even when you were on my arm, huh?"_

 _"_ Ben, stop!" Luke continued to urge. "He's old. You're killing him!"

"Get out of my head!" he yelled, tightening his grip on Loneozner's mind. He was so close to the information he needed. So close he could almost feel his lips begin to form the name.

 _"It doesn't matter. Luke was on a planet called Ahch-To. I'm going there now." She reached over, inputting the coordinates on his datapad. "I just wanted to tell you...and see you one last time...in case I don't make it back."_

He could do it. Just one more push, one more assault on his weak mind, and he could end his life for good. _Do it. Kill him. Give into your anger. Give into your hate. Do it._

 _No. It was wrong._ He had what he needed. He knew where she was. All he had to do now was find her, confront her, and figure out why she'd sided with _him_ —why she too had left when he needed her guidance the most.

Abruptly, he pulled himself from Loneozner's mind, reeling from the images still dancing behind his eyelids.

Then, he looked down.

Loneozner convulsed beneath him, his eyes snapped open, two blank saucers fixated on the ceiling while the other patrons of the bar stood and watched with a mixture of fascination and horror.

Gently, he laid him on the floor, his heart lurching. Loneozner weeped and moaned, hands gripping his head. He had almost killed him. He had almost—

He shook his head.

 _Ahch-To. So that's where Skywalker had gone to in exile._

He scoffed, throwing a handful of credits onto the counter. "I wasn't here," he told the barkeeper, walking away.

A year ago, he would have killed anyone—anything—for that information, even after he had wrenched it from their mind. And he wouldn't have bothered with petty bribes of silence. No, he would have cut the throat of every witness without another thought. But now…

From the doorway, he looked back at Loneozner still crumbled on the floor. Why couldn't he do it? This man, this creature they called Loneozner, was nothing more than a dirty criminal. A dirty criminal like _Han Solo_. Kylo Ren would have done it. Kylo Ren wouldn't have hesitated.

He reached into the Force, focusing on those that had deserted him—Solo, Skywalker, Camie, _Rey_ —trying to find the hate, the anger that had burned and fueled every course of action he took since the destruction of the academy.

But...it was gone. As if it had never existed. As if the last seven years had only been a daydream, a warning vision from the Force and nothing more.

He swallowed, studying his hands. _What_ was happening to him?

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

What do you think of Kylo's internal struggle here?

Also, if you have not seen it yet, I added an "In Medias Res" to begin this story. It features Reylo and will occur in a later chapter.

Thank you to my main beta editor, SilverStarwolfe, and my second beta editor, Way-of-the-pathfinder. I cherish you both more than you know. It feels so wonderful to have two supportive beta editors that care about this story as much as I do. They both write SW fan fiction. Please check them out! Their fics are listed under my favorites on my profile.

— Bee


	8. Chapter 7: Rival

(8)

 **Chapter 7: Rival**

 _Sweetness enveloped his tongue, his eyes growing wider. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, like this on Elerin...or any other planet he had been to._

(The title of this chapter was inspired by the song, "Rival," by Ruelle)

* * *

 _ **Rose — Chandrila**_

Rose leaned forward to stare out of the ship's window, her eyes widening. _So much water…_ She had never seen so much water in her entire life.

It didn't compare to Canto Bight. Even Elerin, with its extensive grasslands and mild seas, couldn't compete with the vast ocean lying before her now. Like a daydream, the _Starsearcher_ inched closer and closer to Hanna City, the reflection of the city light flickering off the surface of the water, creating a shimmering path that took the breath from Rose's lungs.

Rey's gaze matched hers, her lips parted, their thoughts seeming to be in sync. So _this_ was where Ben was from.

Then, Rose's eyes traveled to where Finn was flying the craft. But unlike them, his attention was focused and locked straight ahead. How could he not notice _all of this?_ He had been amazed by Canto Bight before she told him its corrupt backstory.

But Rose knew why. After she'd caught him and Rey holding hands, his eyes had avoided hers, quickly turning away every time she managed to capture his gaze. He was thinking. About her. About Rey. About them. The thought made her heart skip. She took a deep breath. _Now wasn't the time to worry about all of that._

The ship lowered into the spaceport, and Rose's eyes roamed across the skyscrapers towering above them, blueish-grey jewels tall and steadfast in the moonlight. How could Ben have come from such beauty, such light, and yet still fall prey to the Dark Side? How could he have looked at these buildings in his childhood and not seen the need to keep corruption and war from its shores?

Ada tossed Rose a grey uniform, momentarily breaking her thoughts.

"Itchy!" Hale said, pulling at the fabric. "Why do we have to wear this?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Goofball. You were the one that _had_ to come." She tilted her neck and tugged on her own uniform, attempting to get comfortable before she sighed and gave up.

Smoothly, the ship made contact with the hanger, a group of technicians waving their arms and guiding them in.

Rose's palms began to sweat. It was _supposed_ to be a simple mission. Disguise themselves as part of Poe's guards and sneak away when they could. If they succeeded, they would be back home in a few days, a week tops. And if they didn't...Rose didn't want to imagine the thought.

"Alright. Good luck team," Poe said. "And follow my lead."

Rose straightened her shoulders, turning and watching the way Finn moved, trying to mimic his posture. Finn might have spent the last year away from the First Order, but he was still every bit of the Stormtrooper on missions.

"How do you do that?" she asked, rolling her shoulders back erratically.

Finn furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

Rey shot Rose a worried look, took a deep breath, and placed the guard helmet on her head. Rose and the rest followed suit before taking their places behind Poe.

Stiffly, they exited the ship, and it took all of Rose's willpower to keep her attention from wandering to the scenery outside of the metal hangar. It was all so blue, so green, so untouched by the war. Still, she'd learned from Canto Bight that not everything was so beautiful underneath—especially when one started peeling its golden layers away to reveal nothing but painted-coated nickel.

She shook her head slightly, trying to keep pace with the others.

As they neared the entrance, Rose noticed a woman standing ahead, her bright purple gown glowing in the unnatural hangar lights. Likewise, her blue hair seemed to sparkle, twisted and pinned to the back of her head. Two attending women stood by her side, and behind her, a personal entourage of decorated guards waited, their posture impeccably straight.

"Commander Dameron! It's so good to see you!" she said, her eyes glistening with tears. "Thank you for answering my call. I've been so terribly desperate. You can ask Beth here." She gestured toward the attending woman standing beside her in a plain grey tunic. "And she will tell you I've been absolutely unconsolable. I've been pacing back and forth every day. I didn't think you'd come! But here you are!"

Poe's head bobbed, his eyes mouth hanging slightly open. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat and extended his hand. "Queen Isalara Delethin. You certainly are different from when we talked via hologram."

Instead of taking his hand, Isalara brought it to her lips, holding it to her face. "Oh, Vice Governor Min Relice is _such_ a bore. She was with me during those calls. But she isn't here now! Ha! So I win, right Beth?"

Beth sighed, her head bowed. "Yes, your Majesty."

Rose smiled underneath her mask. Poe had his work cut out for him. And she'd get to witness it all.

"One, two, three...seven...ten guards...and a droid!" Isalara said, her finger pointing to each of them. "All of this security isn't necessary, Commander. You are really quite safe here! And besides, I can't have you scaring the House." She turned toward them, her hands on her hips. "Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm sure you are all quite wonderful people."

Rose bit down on her lip, fighting every natural instinct to laugh. There was no way for her to see their facial expressions from behind the masks.

"Of course, your Majesty. Just give me a moment." Poe gestured for them to follow outside of Isalara's hearing range.

"Stay with the ship. If I don't return in three hours tops…" He looked over his shoulder. "Get out of here, okay? Warn D'Acy."

"I don't like this, Poe," Rey said, her tone sharp. "I have a mission here. I'm wasting time if I stay on the ship."

BB8 chirped in agreement. Even Poe's droid was on Rey's side. Rose snickered at the thought.

Poe looked down at him, sighing. "Come on Beebee. Support, please." He turned back to Rey. "I'm just asking for a few hours. _A few hours._ Give me that."

"I'll tell Chewie to send a message to D'Acy if you don't—"

"It's not a request, Rey. It's an order."

"An order to be a sitting duck!" Rey scoffed, lowering her voice. "Have you forgotten that I'm the most wanted person in the galaxy right now? Have you lost your mind?"

"Is it so much to ask for one time... _just one time_...where you agree with an order?"

Finn placed a hand on Rey's arm, relaxing her. Rose looked away.

"Okay, Poe. Three hours. Then we're leaving. I have to get to the Eastern District, and it's already early evening."

"Then wait until tomorrow. But stay with the ship." He glanced back to see Isalara staring at their interaction with concern. "This doesn't look good."

With that, Poe left and walked back to Isalara.

And once they were back on the ship with their helmets removed, Rey began tugging on her tunic again.

"What do we do now?" Hale asked, following Rey's example.

"We're not staying here." Rey began stuffing items into her pack. "Poe can shove it up his backside for all I care."

"We can't abandon Poe," Finn said, not moving.

BB8 chirped blissfully, rolling to Finn's side. Like a cat, he rubbed his head against his leg, love in his beady glass eyes. "Get off!" Finn said, slightly kicking him. Rose stifled a laugh.

"Oh yeah? And what's the first thing they'll destroy so Poe can't escape if they really mean to do him harm? Oh, right! This ship."

Chewie let out a cry.

"I know, Chewie!" Rey said, throwing up her arms. "I promised I wouldn't talk about us exploding anymore. I'm sorry. We're not going to die. Everything will be okay." She shrugged on her pack. "But I still need to go. The Force doesn't want me to stay; I'm sure of it."

Finn held onto the strap of her backpack. "You can't go alone. Rey—"

Rose took Rey's hand, startling her. "Poe's got Chewie. We've got you."

"You're going to get in trouble," Rey said, her lips curling into a smile.

Rose squeezed her hand. "It's worth it."

* * *

 _ **Poe — Chandrila**_

"You really should try the grappaberries, Commander Dameron," Isalara said, bringing one to her lips. "Native only to Chandrila."

"I'm not very hungry, your Majesty, but thank you for the offer."

 _What a waste of time._ They'd traveled millions of lightyears to eat a dinner he could request on Elerin.

His eyes searched the numerous plates before him, varying foods steaming, their smells making his mouth water. He hadnt eaten anything for a few hours now, but he had a mission to accomplish. And he needed to stay alert. A belly full of food would make it pretty hard to run if they were under attack.

Then, his gaze locked to the cerulean-colored berries on the plate closest to Isalara, the intensity of the color momentarily making him pause.

 _Grappaberries._ If he really wanted them, he could have the Resistance's cook, Sidias, import a crate or two.

After they left the hangar, Isalara had _demanded_ they sit down for dinner together. "A 'proper' Chandrilian meal," she'd said, her chin raised. Poe had thought that was royal speech for "let's eat and talk war." Nope, he was definitely wrong. He wasn't wrong often, but when he was—

He grimaced. He'd been sitting for twenty minutes already listening to Isalara rant about her _insufferable_ husband. _And then he had the nerve to change the curtains in our bedroom to puke-colored silk without asking me! Puke-colored silk, Commander!_

"A refusal to eat! Ha!" She popped another in her mouth, drained the wine from her glass, and then poured herself some more. "My goal is to poison you, Commander. Can't you tell?"

"Forgive me, but I'd rather talk politics. You mentioned when we spoke via hologram that there's an election tomorrow to determine the next leader and members of the Chandrilian House."

Isalara set down her fork, sighing. "I'm so completely done with getting straight to politics. Every dinner party! No talk of the food! Of the atmosphere! Of the gowns! This election has sucked the fun out of everyone."

"I'll try a grappaberry, your Majesty," Ada suddenly said, reaching for the dish and placing one on her plate.

"You, you are just lovely! Ada! Yes, fit for a queen. Please, call me Isa." She turned to Poe. "Perhaps you should follow your little girlfriend's example—"

"Ada is not my girlfriend—" Poe interjected, gripping the table.

"—and enjoy! I am very happy to talk with you after dinner, and you will get your _boring_ political council meeting tomorrow before the polls open for voting."

Rey would kill him. Ada was seventeen. Seventeen! He'd taken his fair share of pretty women into his bed, but he drew that line at twenty, despite the age of accountability differing on every planet. He needed Ada for Force protection, but Rey hadn't fully understood that. Nope, once again, she'd thought he had a double agenda, like back on the planet Derin when they'd worked together to recruit more Resistance members and he'd asked her to help him with the negotiations. In her usual fashion, she'd challenged his request. _It's not that I don't want to help, Poe. But I'm not in a leadership position. And people will get the wrong idea about us. You should take Everett_ — _he's Force sensitive._ But he hadn't wanted Everett. He had always wanted Rey. And he would never _stop_ wanting Rey. Her fire, her vivacity, and most importantly, her able control of the Force. She would make a brilliant commander at his side after he secured the title of General.

Poe tugged at his collar, kicking Ada under the table. _Stop making me look bad._ She couldn't hear his thoughts, of course, but for once, Poe wished he had the Force so he could scream into her head. _Wasn't that how that weird telepathy thingy worked anyway?_

"Ouch!" Ada cried, quickly covering her mouth.

Isalara raised an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly to the side. "How is it, dear? Too sweet? This year's harvest has been the sweetest on record. Everyone says so."

"It's delicious, your Ma...Isa." She popped another into her mouth. "Thank you."

"Oh, just try one. If I wanted to poison you, I would not have had my servants bring out the dishes on collective plates. I know you are quite nervous, especially considering the Resistance's delicate state in the galaxy, but this is Chandrila. We have had a long history of peace and justice." Reaching over, she put one on his plate, her rings glinting in the dining room lights. "And what is life if we do not enjoy the simple pleasures?

Poe sighed, tentatively stabbing it with his fork and placing it in his mouth. Sweetness enveloped his tongue, his eyes growing wider. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, like this on Elerin...or any other planet he had been to.

"See, Commander?"

"You're right, your Majesty. It's delicious. Thank you." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and began placing food on his plate to mollify Isalara further.

Perhaps he had been wrong about their situation.

But at the exact moment his shoulders began to relax, the door opened.

"Good evening, Governor Isalara. Commander Dameron. Please forgive me for disturbing your dinner."

Vice Governor Min Relice, the woman that had accompanied Isalara week ago on their hologram call, walked in, her face stern and unyielding.

Poe stood up from his chair, meeting her severe green eyes. Unlike Isalara, she was dressed in plain brown pants and a tan, long-sleeved shirt, her auburn hair cropped short. He remembered her vaguely from the hologram a few weeks ago, but he could have never imagined the _aura_ she would give off—the way she held herself so straight as if one wrong move could send her toppling over an edge only she could see.

Isalara rested an elbow on the table, rubbing two of her fingers together. "And now the fun is over." She breathed out. "How _lovely_ to see you, Vice Governor. You were supposed to be meeting with some of our supporters in the House. And as I have stated _multiple times_ , I am _Queen_ Isalara, as I had decreed a year after my initial election two years ago. But yet, you still insist."

"I won't have this argument again with you, _Governor_." Min Relice closed the door, leaving her two guards to stand outside, the harshness of her face softening into a slight smile directed in Poe's direction.

"Commander Poe Dameron," she said, extending her hand. "I have heard many _good_ things about you. I am Vice Governor Min Relice."

Poe took her hand, giving it a firm shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vice Governor." He gestured to Ada. "This is Ada Gratia. She's a representative of the new order of Jedi my colleague is building."

She shook Ada's hand, her smile still tight. "A Force-sensitive? A pleasure...for sure. Please accept my condolences in regards to General Organa's death. She was dear to the people of Chandrila...as is her _son_ Supreme Leader Kylo Ren."

Poe shared a look with Ada, swallowing. "You never explained. Is Chandrila supporting the First Order?"

Min Relice took a seat next to Isalara and indicated for them to return to their chairs. "Kylo Ren is native to Chandrila. One of our own. Which, as you can imagine, is why the government has been split for the past year on who to support since his rise to Supreme Leader. It was Governor Isalara's decision to contact you, though I did urge her against it."

"We are so terribly sorry for not reaching out to the Resistance sooner," Isalara said. "After the destruction of the Hosnian System, my people were hesitant to support the Resistance again, despite our reverence for General Organa. And with Kylo Ren's ascension to Supreme Leader, it has been absolutely _chaos_ in the House, let me tell you."

Isalara laughed, swirling the wine in her glass. "We've called you at _such_ an unfun time I am afraid. I thought perhaps a proper Chandrilian dinner before unpleasantries would be needed, but it seems Minny had other plans."

"It's alright. Your hospitality has been generous, Queen Isalara," Poe said.

"Ha! See?" Isalara turned to Min Relice, pointing a finger in her direction. "Commander Dameron knows my proper title!"

" _Commander Dameron_ also does not understand our customs," Min Relice replied, her eyes flashing to Poe's for a moment. "You angered a lot of people with that ruling, Isalara. We are a democracy, not a monarchy."

"The people will be angered no matter what I do. The House has been divided for over a year."

Min Relice stared blankly at Isalara, her eyes far away. "And now we must work on fixing that."

"So what's the plan?" Poe inquired. "We need Chandrila's support. We need soldiers. We need ships. We need credits."

Min Relice rested a hand on her chin. "And what do you offer _us_ , Commander?"

"Oh, Minny! Enough of that! They are our _guests_!" Isalara exclaimed while Min Relice shot her a glance laced in anger.

Disregarding Min Relice, Isalara turned to Poe. "Commander, I can give you that...if I am reelected and if the majority in the House agrees to support the Resistance again. I would be so happy if you attended the House meeting tomorrow afternoon and spoke on behalf of the Resistance. But…"

"What is it?" Poe questioned, his palms sweating.

"I have another...odd...request."

"Anything. The Resistance is at your service."

Isalara shared a worried glance with Min Relice. "The woman, the scavenger that killed Supreme Leader Snoke...she is with the Resistance, right?"

Poe swallowed. "What about her?"

"I want her to speak at the House meeting as well."

"I...don't think that's possible. Forgive me for asking, but why?"

"She knows Kylo Ren more intimately than anyone else. There are...rumors, even, isn't that so lovely!" She covered her mouth, lowering her voice. "That they killed Snoke _together_."

Poe tensed. He knew not to listen to the rumors, but they often scared him the closer they came to the truth.

"Kylo Ren's policies, as they stand," Min Relice said quickly, folding her hands together. "Have been fair and balanced. He has proven himself to be an almost _benevolent_ ruler. He chose not to invade Chandrila when he had the chance...nor Naboo or Coruscant. In fact, the leaders on both planets were given the option of contacting the First Order when _they_ were ready."

Poe chuckled sarcastically. "The First Order destroyed the Hosnian System. A key part of _our_ order. And with all due respect, Vice Governor, they don't have the power to invade. We kicked their asses. Took out a dreadnought and cut the Supremacy in half."

"And at what cost to the Resistance?" Min Relice said with narrowed eyes. "The galaxy knows you've been hiding out for a year. And so far, Kylo Ren's reign has been peaceful...by _all_ accounts. Which does not bode well for you, Commander."

Poe shook his head. "I'm not understanding. If Kylo Ren is seen so positively, why even consider the Resistance now?"

"You should ask _Isalara_. It was her idea to contact you. The Resistance failed the Republic. The First Order has proven to be more competent than your ragtag group of rebels."

" _Democracy_ , Minny! You are always going on and on about how I'm not democratic enough! That's why I support the Resistance, as we all did a year ago when the Republic was intact. I need Rey to speak out against Kylo Ren and the First Order. If she does, we will surely be reelected, and the House thus convinced to support the Resistance. Her opinion would hold weight—far greater weight than anyone else's."

Poe crossed his arms. "And what if her account doesn't fit the bill?"

"Then she will have to improvise!"

"You want her to lie?" Poe mentally scoffed. _Rey would never do that._

Suddenly, Isalara grabbed his hand. " _Please_ , Poe. I _need_ her. One speech. That's all I ask."

Poe looked over at Ada, sighing. "Okay, alright. I'll ask her. She came with me, actually. She's on the _Starsearcher_ now...I'll talk to her."

"What a surprise! I assumed that she would feel it were too dangerous to come to Chandrila." Isalara clasped her hands together in excitement, her face brightening. "Did you know I would ask for her?"

Poe shrugged. "I had a feeling. She's an... _interesting_ woman."

"Please, by all means, Commander. We would be happy to speak with her now," Min Relice said, gesturing toward the door with an open palm.

"Sure," Poe said. "If you'll just excuse us."

He had practically done it! Now if he could convince Rey, he would have Chandrila's support by tomorrow afternoon and be on his way back to Elerin. _Kaydel didn't stand a chance._

But then he paused. He had to convince Rey. Disagreeable, argumentative, _Rey_. The smile fell from his face, and he prayed to whatever deity was listening that she had followed his orders and stayed put for once.

Two of Isalara's guards escorted Poe, Ada, and their small entourage back to the hangar. _Breathe, Dameron._ Rey knew what was at stake. She wouldn't have abandoned him.

"Don't be nervous, Poe," Ada said at his side, gentle as ever. "Rey will be there."

With that reassurance, he straightened. He just had to persuade Rey to condemn Ren. That's all. She would do it for the Resistance—he was sure of it. She wanted them to succeed. She knew how much this mission meant to not only him, but to _all_ of them.

When they made it back to the hangar, Poe practically ran to the _Starsearcher_ , his smile growing larger with each moment that passed.

"Guys! We've done it! We just—"

He stopped at the sight of only Chewie and BB8 in the Command Room. "Chewie? Bee-Bee Ate? Where's Rey?"

Chewie—and the porg on his shoulder—only stared blankly at him in silence. And BB8, like the traitor he had been lately, followed suit.

"Rey! Rose! Finn! Hale!" Poe called, checking every room and hallway with frantic determination.

He circled back to the Command Room and ran into Ada. "You're fast," she said, hunched over and out of breath. "Where is everyone?"

Poe turned back to the Chewie, his smile falling. "Chewie! Come on, man. Where are they? What happened?"

Chewie let out a few nervous sounds, his head down.

"What do you mean she went to investigate the lead?!" Poe gripped the back of the seat until his knuckles turned white. "I told her to stay put!"

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

The plot continues. How well do you think this mission on Chandrila will go?

Small note: if you were wondering why I use "Command Room" instead of "cockpit," it's because I'm an immature 20-something who usually can't keep a straight face when reading or writing this term. I know, I'm horrible.

Also, again, if you have not seen it yet, I added an "In Medias Res" last week to begin this story (Chapter 1). It features Reylo and will occur in a later chapter. And to all my Reylos: I am sorry it is taking so long to get into the content you want. I promise that this build up is 100% needed for what I have planned.

Moreover, as you can see, I am splitting my chapters into smaller pieces. How do you feel about this? Would you prefer to have more substantial chapters at the expense of having an update about once every three weeks? Let me know in the reviews or in a private message! Any and all opinions are okay. Your opinions matter to me, whether I personally agree with them or not.

Thank you to my main beta editor, SilverStarwolfe, and my second beta editor, Way-of-the-pathfinder. You guys don't know how lovely you both are. I can't stop singing your praises! I also beta edit for them occasionally. Check out their works if you haven't already done so!

 _ **Responses to Guest Reviews**_

Two guests posted reviews, and since I can't PM them to respond, I thought I would do that here.

1\. _"Seems like Poe correctly identified Rey as a Mary Sue in this chapter. He's a smart one, that one."_

Thank you for your comment! Though, I have never been entirely sure why Rey is called a "Mary Sue." I can see how she's a little too perfect at a lot of things, hence one of the reasons for her practically having a meltdown at the beginning of this story. But I think that TLJ explained why she is so good with the Force. She is the mirror of Kylo/Ben, and according to Luke, they are the strongest Force users that he has ever seen. Kylo's moves, despite his training, are almost as raw as Rey's. I think this suggests an innate ability to feel the Force—something that has never existed before (if we take Luke's word). She's just a natural. Take singing, for instance. I have been practicing all of my life, but yet, I do not have even half the control as one girl I knew who practiced for only three months at 9 years old. Anyone can learn to sing, sure, because a lot of it is muscle memory. However, there are just some of us that are born with that ability to learn quickly. Naturals at it, in other words, I suppose. I would be really interested in doing a full-fledged meta and expanding on these ideas with evidence from the books and movies when I have time.

2\. _"I'm really enjoying it so far. Each new chapter is better than the last and I can't wait to see what happens next."_

Thank you so much for this comment! It means so much to me to hear you are enjoying it! As a writer, that is my greatest accomplishment. I hope I can live up to your expectations!

Send me your thoughts, questions, and general comments. I will always respond.

— Bee


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